The Departed
by nerd girl nithagria
Summary: Basically, this begins somewhere between CoB and CoA. A bunch of Clary's old friends show up because they're parents find reasons for them to be there. Then all the adventures start all over again. Currently takes place after CoLS. (Contains spoilers.)
1. Chapter 1

Clary was lying on the floor of her room, flicking through the scrapbooks Mrs. Lewis had made for her so many years ago. She flicked the face of the smiling black haired boy with his arms around herself and Simon with an affectionate finger. Will, her best friend, her confidant, her co-conspirator. Will. There had never been anyone like him and there never would be. She was coming in now on the third year of his being gone. She hated to admit it, but things were getting pretty much back to normal again. She had had a rough year the first year he was gone, the second, she had been aware of his absence and she had carved herself out around it; quieter than she had been, smaller. She had been big and bright once, but even now, in her third year, as she pushed at the borders in small ways, going to the Pandemonium, watching the world of Shadowhunters with a wary eye, she wasn't the same. She needed an ice, a mirror, to reflect her keen fire and to burn against. That's what Will had been. The kind of person who set her on fire, the kind of person who made her feel completely and undeniably alive. Today she missed him, more than usual. Today was the anniversary, the day he had left her next to the church and told her that he had to leave, that he didn't have a choice, that that was goodbye.

She rolled over on her back and swallowed tears. Sure, she thought about him all year, he was always there. It was hard to be as close to someone as she had been with Will and not remember them, having a nagging feeling of them, in the back of your head. But this day, the anniversary, was the only day she let herself really think about it, really miss him. It was a promise she made herself when she had started noticing Simon's scared looks and the Departeds' growing distance.

Ah, the Departed. Will and Simon had been her best friends and together they had built a tightly knit inner circle. There had been exotically beautiful Cecelia, Celia, or Ceals, for short. If Clary closed her eyes, she could picture her; the muscular curves, the shinning grey-blue eyes, the ease with which she slipped into a laugh. The books she always carried the converse she always wore. The way her dark hair curled around her olive skinned face. Celia had been Clary's secret keeper away from the boys, the one she could rely on for girl talk. She and Larla, the other girl in the group. Larla was like a ribbon, tall and flexible. Platinum blond hair and green brown eyes. Long, thin, smooth. Larla was the beauty queen. The one every boy, even at the tender age of thirteen, turned their heads to look at she walked by. Larla possessed a power in her that made you stop and listen, she could have her choice of any boy she wanted, but she chose Jonathan, the last member of the Departed. Strong and athletic, Jonathan held an uncommon humor and an incredibly warm heart. Clary felt a pang of sadness, knowing she and he hadn't been as close, but they had been friends, and she remembered the warm bear hug he had given her when she had been feeling down, which had been almost always when they last saw each other. They were all gone now to who knows where, and it was just her and Simon left, left alone with the bones of what they had.

It was awful and lonely and all-around horrible. Luke had told her once, when they had gone camping and she had asked after the mournful howl of an unseen wolf, that anybody, anything, feels the deep pit of despair when they lose their families. Well, she had lost hers, and she felt it, even now, even after three years of having gotten "better". The scars were there. The scars were always there. You were aware of how you had been and you wanted it with an ache that didn't compare to anything else in the world. She closed her eyes, shutting out the view of the cracked white ceiling. In the background, piano music played softly, something that Will would have liked. Will loved music. He had a viola that he would give his life for.

Will. He had promised her, all those years ago, that if he ever came back, he'd meet her outside that church, and she had gone, two years in a row, to see if he would come, if he would appear, if just for an instant, but he never had, and she was left alone. She would go again tonight of course. There was no question about it. She was probably crazy for it, but it's what she did, it's what anybody did when they wanted to hold on to some crazy form of hope. And she held on to her hope with both hands, refusing, even after all these years, to let go of the hope that one day, Will would come back and everything might somehow, crazily, incredible, get to be alright again. They wouldn't be of course. But still. It was ritual and routine, and what does one keep when they have nothing else.

Clary flipped back onto her stomach and stared at the smiling boy in the top hat.

"Maybe," she whispered. "Maybe."


	2. Chapter 2

The night air that slid across Clary's shoulders was a sweet refresher from the warm air that pressed down on her as summer fought against the coming fall. She lifted her face to take it in, nature's inconsistent and sporadic fan. Then, with a sigh, she bent her head down and continued to draw. She had shown up at the meeting sight at around six, and now it was getting close to eight, not that she hadn't known that it would be a long wait. It had been last year, and the year before that. She was perfectly alright with waiting for someone that would never come. It wasn't so much of a wait as a silent vigil to a friendship that had been, without question of a doubt, one of the most excellent friendships probably to ever have been known on the face of the earth.

She was drawing the night, the scene that she saw laid out before her, or at least, how she imagined it would look from twenty feet behind her; the church, the flickering lamplight, the lonely, crazy girl waiting on a park bench at a crazy hour, just asking to be mugged. She smudged in a shadow to the church, giving, she thought, the whole scene, already sad in its black and white charcoal, an even gloomier look. She shook her head at herself and smiled.

"I'm crazy," she muttered. "Absolutely crazy."

"Well, yeah, I mean, _come on_ Lady. " Clary jumped. Her first thought was that somehow Jace, weird, semi-stalkerish seeming Jace, had invaded on her privacy once again. She hadn't heard anybody come up and sit down on the bench, after all, but then she looked at the speaker; he sat barely a foot away from her, his arm draped casually over the wooden clapboard that made up the back. He was grinning at her. _What the….?_

"But then again, you always were, weren't you?"

Clary shook her head in disbelief. Black hair, always too long, purple-blue eyes, glinting with undefinable depths of kindness and mischief, wide, grinning mouth, and altogether an unorthodox sense of ease and comfort. Will.

"Well," Will said, leaning in. "Are you at least going to say hello?"

Clary smiled and laughed, unable to contain her incredulity. "What are you doing here?"

Will laughed and pulled away. "Well. I was in town, am planning on staying in town for quite a while, and figured, what the heck. Why not go see the Lady, eh?" He shrugged. "What do you think?"

Clary struggled to take it all in. Will, who she had been certain she would never see again, had shown up, out of the blue, and hadn't forgotten about their childish promise. _He hadn't forgotten_. That, somehow, meant more to Clary than a whole bundle of everything she could ever hope to wish for, it was the best thing in the world to her. What was more, he still called her Lady, a nickname she had half-forgotten, and which brought back memories of the adventures and expeditions she had embarked on as a youth with Will and Simon and all the rest of them. It was crazy and wonderful and perfect.

Will was still smiling, but now he stood up. "Come on. I'll buy you some dinner and we can talk. Knowing you, Lady," He sighed, and smiled a little more to himself at some memory, "your plans probably failed to include nourishment for yourself and I." He shook his head. "See, this is why I always planned things."

Clary took his hand and stood up, bumping him with her shoulder. "I don't know what you mean when you say that I always forget food. As for planning, I seem to recall that your plans had an awful tendency to go awry."

Will laughed and settled his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her against him in a small half-hug. "Lady, you give me no credit, what about the Great Beach Expedition of '09?"

"I'm pretty sure a seagull flew off with Lar's flip flops."

"They were shoddy flip flops. That seagull was doing her a favor."

"If you say so."

"I do. Now, how does The Flying Valkyrie sound? They always had good food."

The Flying Valkyrie. Sure, there were definitely finer establishments to be found in the great metropolis called New York, but to a ragtag group of ten year olds, which was how old the Departed had been when they found the place, it was a wonderland. Clary remembered carving into the soft wood tables with the knife they set out with the place settings. The Departed had had a permanently reserved booth in the back corner on the second floor gallery. She laughed, she had been doing a lot of that tonight, but with Will once again pulling off the impossible, it was hard not to.

"The last time we were there, we were like, twelve."

"Thirteen, but good try. Besides, age doesn't discriminate against the best grilled cheese I, for one, have ever tasted. Remember how we would always go, every Tuesday?"

"Yep. Good times, good times."

Will nodded to himself, and Clary took the time to study him a little. He was, in all the ways that counted, much the same; same joking personality, same laugh, same ruggedly clean-cut look. He had grown, true. He now stood several inches about Clary, maybe somewhere around six feet or so, but he was practically that same joking boy from the pictures she had been studying earlier. He was still her Will.

"So how long have you been in the city?"

"Beg pardon?"

"How long have you been here? I'm guessing you didn't just show up tonight."

"Will glanced at her. "Always observant, aren't you Lady? To be honest, I've been here about two weeks. My mom got a job offer."

"Why didn't you come find me? Forget symbolic meetings, you should know that I would have wanted to see you the moment you showed up again."

"I actually did go to your place." He smiled wryly at the thought. "Totally empty, so I figured you'd moved, but that it'd be easier to meet you at the rendezvous point instead of trying to track you down. So I waited, and you know how I am with waiting."

Will and waiting was actually a kind of sketchy relationship. He could wait forever for something if he wanted to, but if he really looked forward to it, he was as impatient as all get out, and that wasn't just for what he was waiting for. His attention span started equaling that of a goldfish as well.

Clary sighed in mock annoyance. "Next time, check Luke's place too. Wait-what do you mean your mom got a job offer?"

"She got a job offer. Simple as that."

"Does that mean you're back forever?"

Will smiled wryly and pulled open the restaurant's door. "Dinner first, alright Lady? I'm starving."

Clary rolled her eyes, but she was happy. Will, her best friend of all time, was back, and this time, Clary wasn't planning on letting him leave.


	3. Chapter 3

Clary walked through the door that Will opened for her. "Alright," she consented, "but you're paying!"

Will laughed. "Anything for you, Lady. Just do me a favor and don't bust my wallet. I brought a car last spring, and, if you haven't noticed, those can be expensive."

She turned and looked at him, surprised. "A car?"

Will smiled. "Yes Lady. Those motorized vehicles that drive on the strips of black pavement that snake through the more open areas and divide cities into grids."

Clary scoffed. "I know what a car is William."

"I know Lady, I was just poking fun."

The Flying Valkyrie was only about two stories tall, but it was wide. There was a stage in the back corner, and a wide space that was used for dancing for the restaurant's nightclub style on the weekends. An old wooden staircase led to a wide gallery overlooked the main floor. The walls had be left uncovered, revealing worn brick walls plastered with posters advertising forgotten bands and products. To the left of the stage, the wall was painted in a coke a cola advertisement. To the right was the bar, which looked into the kitchen. A few stray customers sat there, nursing their drinks and talking softly to the barkeep, who was wiping up the counter. A hostess with flaming red hair and amber eyes walked over.

"Just the two of you?"

Clary nodded and the hostess started leading them towards a table on the floor, but Will hesitated.

"Could we sit upstairs? It's just…"

The hostess smiled. "You two have a special spot? That's so sweet!" She looked at Clary. "I wish my boyfriend was like that." She sighed and looked at the bar. "But he's not really the sentimental type."

Clary tried her best to subtly scoot away from Will, and he raised his eyebrows at her in silent amusement. "We're not…" She started to stutter, but the girl was already waving them up the stairs.

"You guys go get your seats, if you already know where you want to go. I'll be up in a sec with some waters and menus for you guys to start."

Clary sighed and followed Will up the steps.

"Well," she said. "We're getting dinner. Will you _PLEASE_ spill?"

Will laughed and slid into their booth. "You know Lady, you haven't even said hello yet." He smiled as the girl as she passed them their menus and drinks and murmured a polite thank you.

"I'm Americe and I'll be you're server this evening. Is there anything I can get you to drink? Cola? Lemonade?" She seemed to be directing her questions more in Will's direction and Clary smiled a little to herself as she glanced over the familiar selections. Poor girl. If Clary knew Will, he was barely paying attention.

"Just a cola, please," Will said, not glancing up and waving his hand. Americe seemed to deflate a bit as Will's reaction made her realize this and she turned to Clary with a questioning glance.

Clary gave her a sympathetic smile. "The same, thanks."

Americe flounced off and Clary went back to studying her menu. "She seemed nice," Clary said casually.

Will made a small sound of agreement, then looked up when Clary chuckled.

"What?"

Clary looked at him. "Oh, you're hopeless William. She thought you were cute. She was more interested in you than me!"

Will looked confused. "But she said her boyfriend…"

Clary shook her head. "Will, that doesn't matter to some girls."

"Oh."

"Mmmm." Clary turned glanced at the specials. "It would appear they don't have your grilled cheese as a meal anymore."

"Yes they do. It's at the bottom of the third page."

"That's the kids' menu."

"So?"

"Will, you don't qualify as a kid anymore."

Will looked up, devastated. "What?"

Clary couldn't help but laugh at the terrified look on his face.

"But I…I've always…"

"Forget it. For the time being, it's sweet." Clary ran her fingers over the table. "It would appear our carvings have disappeared."

"Disdapeared?" Will asked. "Not really, just faded. We'll have to come back and start reapplying them."

"Yep. With Simon. He'll want to k now you're around."

Will smiled. "Ah, Wise Eyes. Always working to keep you and I in line. How is he by the way? I suppose I'm rude for forgetting to ask until now, but…"

Clary shook her head. "It's fine. He's doing well, actually. Formed a band like he always wanted with his nerd friends, Eric and the rest, you know."

Will looked at her thoughtfully. "We always did plan on doing that. I'm sorry we never got the chance. Is the music any good? I always figured Simon would end up being a decent bass if he put as much effort into it as he did his Lego metropolises."

Clary shrugged. "He's not _bad_, he just never plays. The majority of the time they sit around trying to figure out a good name."

Will laughed. "That's Wise Eyes for you. Always trying to do things right. See, that was the thing about the Departed, you, me, him, Ceals, Jonathan, and Lars. We knew who we were and it was pretty close to perfect. Things worked without us thinking about them, you know?"

Clary nodded. She did know. She had been missing the rest of the Departed since their families had wandered away years ago. She had missed the sense that before she could pose a question to one of them they would be ready with the answer. She missed being close to people like that. Sure, she had Simon, but when it was just him and her, well, it just wasn't the same. A pair wasn't as good as a party, and the Departed had been a party she had practically led. She felt their absence almost as much as she felt Will's. She had been an only child and the Departed had been her brothers and sisters. Her cousins and second parents. They had been her family and playmates, and their loss had been hard. The last to go had been Celia, who would always remain her best friend that as an actual girl. Clary smiled a little at the thought of her.

Will continued on. "I still talk to Ceals a little. And I'm pretty sure she has Lars and Johnny Boy's contact info. We should call them up sometime. Plan a little reunion for ourselves."

"Celia gave you her new information after she left but not me? Now I'm hurt. For real."

Will gave her a sad smile. "She had her reasons, Lady, let it be."

Clary sighed heavily. She knew Simon still had Jonathan's email address. He had offered to give it to her when he left, but she had been too out of it mourning the loss of Will in her life to care.

Americe came back to take their orders and Will, true to form, ordered a grilled cheese. Clary smiled and went with pancakes. If Will was going to be weird, then she may as well be too.

"So tell me what you and Wise Eyes have been up to in those oh-so-dull years of my absence."

Clary laughed. She knew that Will was joking, but she know he didn't realize how true his words were. "Oh, alright I guess. Going to school. Living. There's a dance club I like, Pandemonium, which we go to sometimes, though I suspect Simon only goes to keep an eye out for me. You'd be proud, I'm sure, of how carefully he looks after me,"

Will smiled. "I'm glad someone's looking out for that flaming head of yours Lady. Don't you guys have any more friends though? No new Departed? No nerdy girlfriend for Wise Eyes?"

"Actually, I think I might be that 'nerdy girlfriend'."

Will started at her in shocked silence for a few moments. Clary studied the old marks left behind on the table. She thought she could make out a faint 'G' from Celia's marking.

"What?" Will finally said.

"Yeah. I mean, I guess we're dating. We go to the movies and we've kissed a few times…" Clary trailed off, uncertain of how to finish and Will leaned back and studied her with an appraising eye.

"Well," He said, "I suppose I should've seen that coming. Ceals always said he had a thing for you."

Clary made a face. It was weird to hear Will commenting on her relationship with Simon. "What about you? Did you have any relationships while you were gone?" Clary wasn't just asking to be polite. She was genuinely curios. She and Will had left things unfinished, although now it seemed they had both potentially moved on. Or at least she had tried with Jace, but that was tricky scenario now that she knew he was her brother. She supposed Simon counted, although she didn't feel that same spark between them.

Will scratched his neck, and Clary let him take his time. That was the thing about Will. She could ask him anything about anything and he would answer her as honestly and as truthfully as he could. It was how things had always been between them.

"I guess there was a girl in Chicago, but that's in the past now, I'm here, and she isn't the kind of person to put her faith in a distance relationship.

Clary nodded. So he had moved on. She didn't know how that made her feel. Relieved? Maybe, although that didn't seem quite right. She filed the thought away to chew on later when she was alone.

They sat in silence for just about the rest of the night, making occasional remarks to each other. Americe brought them their food and they ate in relative silence. Clary ate the pickles from Will's sandwich and he ate what she couldn't finish. They may not have talked, but they were together in thoughtful companionship. That's what Clary had always liked about being around Will. Being with him didn't take effort; it was easy, like breathing.

When they were done, Will drove her to Luke's in his car, a shiny silver Tesla, and stood leaning against the passenger side door as she walked to the back door in a small attempt to sneak past her slumbering temporary guardian. She glanced back at him and her heart filled with a soft feeling of contentment. Perhaps now, things would start feeling normal. Will had always been the rock of sanity and clear thinking in Clary's life and that was just what she needed after these past weeks of turmoil with the shadowhunters and their world. Everything just needed to be put on pause and it felt like, when she was with Will, she was finally getting a chance to do just that.


	4. Chapter 4

Celia Cielisereni lay on her bad, blasting music and painting her nails. Her walls were painted an outrageous shade of red with black, white and grey splatter painted on the ceiling. Spare clothes, especially undergarments, littered the floor. She bent the tip of her tongue behind her front teeth as she smiled and half closed her eyes in pleasure, bopping her head back and forth to the music. Posters for bands and old pictures of herself and the Departed were taped and tacked to the wall. Books filled every other empty space. _Great Expectations, The Once and Future King, Catch-22, Slaughterhouse Five, Macbeth_. They were everywhere, haphazardly stacked on the nightstand, on the floor. As she painted, she glanced over a copy of _Paradise Regained_, propped against an old copy of _The Inferno_ in its original Italian.

"I crashed my car into the bridge," She hum/ sang along with the song. Pop music. Great for dancing. How she loved it.

Ky, her brother, stepped into the open doorway and looked at her with a tired smile on his face and rubbed his face with the palm of his hand.

"Really, Ceals? It's what? 10:30?"

Cealia shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't been watching the clock."

Ky surveyed her wasteland with an affectionate gaze. "Do you even know where the clock is to watch?"

Celia went back to her nails. "No."

Ky laughed and sat down on the bad, pushing aside some weapons she had discarded on the spread after training that day. "There's a place for these, you know." He nodded towards the hooks that were placed next to the door.

"I know." Celia finished her hand and looked at t with a critical eye before blowing on it slightly and waving it around to dry it off a little. Her fingers were now an adventurous and sparkly shade of gold. Ky smiled and leaned back a little, relaxing a some.

"No parties tonight?"

"Nope." Celia leaned back, tossing aside _Paradise. _"Just you and me tonight big bro. Mom and dad won't be home. Something at the Stormsinger's.

Ky pulled a face. "I don't like them."

Celia leaned her head on his shoulder. "Me neither. They're too snobby. I think they think I'm a slut. Which I am, but I don't like people thinking that unless I want them too."

Ky tucked his chin over hers and slid his arm around his arm around her back, squeezing her shoulder slightly. "You're not a slut, Ceals."

Cealia started on her other hand. "Whatever."

He closed his eyes. Celia had been hard to deal with since it life had gone to hell with him and he hadn't been able to keep such a careful eye on her. As a rule, Ky had always taken more of Celia than their parents had. Elia and Ally had been too busy running the Los Angeles institute in California the last few years and dealing with family matters and Clave business before that to really take the time to focus on their two children. So Ky had stepped up and watched his little sister like any big brother should. He had done his best, but it was hard. The Departed had made things easier. The six of them had all kept each other in line and Ky had never needed to worry. Later, when they had been in Chicago for a smidge, Will had helped further, staying with Celia, keeping her out of trouble, but then it had been up and away again and it had just been him, and it was hard to be on his own with self-destructive Celia. It was very, very hard.

"So you're home late," Celia started.

Ky pulled away and nodded. "Yeah. Went out with Nick. Just to see a movie."

"I sense a kindred sluttly spirit in Nick. Watch out for him, Ky."

He shook his head. "Ceals, You don't get it. He isn't like that."

Celia shrugged, disbelieving. "Alright." Her phone buzzed and she finished her work to read the text. "Ah. Hello Willim."

Ky stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes. "Tell Will hi."

Celia stuck out her tongue as she responded, reading allowed as she wrote. "Willim darling. Too long. Really. Ky sends his love." Then she leaned back next to Ky and looked at her carefully chaotic ceiling, hands laid flat over her stomach. Ky had thrown his arms over his eyes.

"I miss Will," he breathed.

"I miss Will, too." Her phone buzzed and she checked it, raising her eyebrows slightly at the content. "Will's back in the Big Apple. Do you think Mom and Dad would ever be willing to go back?"

"Probably not. This is their dream, remember. It'd take something…big…to make them want to leave."

"Do you think my rep is big and bad enough yet?"

"NO."

"Well that was a little forceful. You gotta admit though, I am the dishonorable child they hide in the corner."

"We're both the dishonorable children they hide in the corner."

Celia reflected on that. Ky was, after all, capital 'G' Gay, generally something not thought highly of in the shadowhunter community. Between the two of them, they put quite the black mark on their parents' otherwise spotless reputation, and therefore everyone, most especially their parents, brushed them aside. The Cielisereni children always seemed to leave a bad aftertaste in peoples' mouths. All too often, she and Ky were disagreeable, and on purpose as well. Celia had found from a young age that adults were quick to judge, and Celia, in her pride and rebellion, had sought to stomp on their pompous expectations and be whoever she so pleased.

"I wish we could leave," she said softly. Her Ipod had shuffled to some down-toned song and Celia smiled at its seeming incredible ability to read her mood. "I don't like it here. It's too far away from everyone else. I want to go home."

Ky sighed. "I know Ceals. I know."


	5. Chapter 5

Celia looked up from _Paradise Regained_. Say what you would about classic literature and poetry, Milton knew where it was at. Ky was sound asleep beside her, he could sleep anywhere really, and at any time. The two of them had always looked after each other, and never more than now. She had heard he parents come in downstairs and now she sat up as her mother's heels clacked against the stairs. Ally peeked into her daughter's room, she held a long black a long black coat cloaked over her shimmering evening gown in one hand like if she was holding together a cape.

"You OK sweetheart? I thought you'd be in bed by now, it's almost one."

Celia shrugged as her mother came over to kiss her. "I'm fine mom, really." Ally sat down on the bed and brushed her daughter's hair out of her face with her free hand. "I'm a mother dear, I worry, but if you say so…"

Celia looked at Ky. She and her mother didn't have much of a relationship. Mostly, they were like two people who happened to live in the same house. The only time the two really interacted was when she got scoldings and at times like these.

Ally followed her daughter's gaze and looked at her son and sighed. "He looks so sweet when he's sleeping." She tugged up the comforter that Celia had messily thrown over her brother. "Let him be Celia. He deserves his rest."

_Yes, _Celia thought to herself,_ because I was totally planning on moving him. _Celia loved her mother, but sometimes Ally just didn't seem to realize the strange things that came out of her mouth. She kissed her son's head then stood up, giving Celia's book a quick glance. "Don't you think it's time you read something else? How many times have you read that and the other one?"

"You mean The Inferno? They're classics, Mom. I'll never be able to read them enough."

Ally sighed. "Well, if nothing else, you have a good grasp on literature. Take some time for the other's too, darling though, and don't stay up too late reading, alright? Clean up here before you read anymore though, it's a pigsty. I'm going to bed."

"Alright," Celia said, picking up _Paradise_ again. "Night mom."

"Night darling," drifted the response down the hallway.

Celia glanced at her phone. Will had texted her. They had been carrying on a pretty good conversation throughout the night, but it had been only once her mother had mentioned the time that Celia remembered the time difference. She put the paperback face down on the bed and ticked off the hours mentally, then on her fingers, then again, just to be sure. Will didn't sleep. The boy was crazy.

**Will, its like, 5 am in NY. Y THE FUDGE R U PULLING AN ALL NIGHTER?**

She hit send and went back to reading until her phone whooshed a few minutes later with Will's reply.

**Can't sleep. Viola beckoned. Playing to the stars, this humble Earth's audience.**

Celia shook her head.

**Stars don't listen, Willim. Appealing to them is fruitless. **

Whoosh.

**Doesn't mean they can't be appealed to.**

She typed in her response

**UR CRAZY. GO TO BED. **

Whoosh

**Never. I think I figured out 'Sail'. If the stars won't listen, would you?**

Celia smiled and lay back, forgetting Paradise. Getting to hear Will play, even over the phone, was always a treat. The only person she had ever known him to play for with total ease was Clary. Clary. A pang took Celia's heart. Clary had been her best friend, and once she had left, well, it was hard to explain when your address didn't exist how to send a letter. She closed her eyes, holding her phone close to her lips, trying her best not to cry. Celia, as a rule, didn't cry. It wasn't becoming. She dialed in Will's number. His playing was exactly what she needed right now, that and the sound of his voice. She listened as the call connected. He picked up on the first ring, his cheery voice, despite the late (or would it be early?) hour, coming down the line.

"Glitter! So glad you called!"

Celia laughed. He loved calling her that, a joke about her favorite obsession that he'd lorded over her since they were nine.

"Oh, like if you didn't tell me too."

"Mmm. The answer to that question is debatable. Now listen to the beautiful music I produce to herald the coming of a beautiful day!"

"It's still night here, Will."

"And somewhere, it's the middle of the afternoon. Really Ceals, time is relative, and the things that happen in that time are as indefinite as they are unimaginable. The only real constant is the existence of music somewhere filling that time. Now, must I continue my lecture, or shall I play?"

"If music be the food of your love, Will, play on!"

Will's laugh bubbled through the receiver. "You paraphrased, but alright."

How could she describe Will's music? It filled you and took you in like a warm embrace on a lonely night. It didn't matter what he played, it sounded beautiful. He could play Mozart with all the wrong notes and anyone who listened would still applaud. Somehow, through his music, Will managed to get people to care as much as he did, and it was incredible and wonderful and only added to his overall charm.

"Well, what do you think? Did I get it right?" He asked once he had finished.

Celia closed her eyes and smiled. "Honestly? No idea. I've never heard the song before. But it sounded pretty."

"Yes, it is very nice, isn't it?" Will mused. More to himself than her, she knew.

"You've made me tired," She yawned.

Will chuckled. "You're always falling asleep on me, Glitter."

Celia rubbed her eyes. "We can't all manage your sleep patterns, Willim, you crazy boy. I don't even know how you do it. You get what? Four hours of sleep every night?"

"Three, but never you worry you're pretty little head over it. How about a lullaby for you then? I may be beyond rest for tonight, but you still have a few hours before dawn."

"That'd be lovely, Willim."

So Will started playing. Something smooth and gently and comforting, like slipping into a cloud. By the time he finished, he could hear her soft breathing over the phone.

"Good night, Celia. Dream well until the morning." Then Will hung up and sat down on his bed, squeezing his eyes shut, and then opening them again, falling back with a slight thud to stare at the plain ceiling with woeful eyes. Why was sleep always so evasive when he needed it the most?


	6. Chapter 6

Will sat down in the book at The Flying Valkyrie and pulled out a knife. It had been a few weeks since he had gotten back, and he, the Lady, and Simon had started coming more often. He figured that if he was going to be here all the time again, he may as well start reclaiming his space.

"Hi." Simon slid into the booth across from him and Will's gaze flickered up for a moment before returning to his work.

"That's the Lady's spot."

Simon shrugged. He looked mildly dejected, but then again, he had sounded much lonelier on the phone, so perhaps this was an advancement in moods.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first thing we shared. And now at least, I can be certain that SOMEBODY loves me."

Will stopped carving and looked at his friend. "Someone abandon you, Wise Eyes?"

Simon nodded his head mournfully.

Will sighed. "Sorry to hear it."

Simon stared at the main floor. Waiters and waitresses were moving tables back into the space that had been left open for dancing that night and sweeping up debris from the evening crowd. Some band must have played a gig tonight. "It's not I should be surprised, she's been busy lately, and I did fall asleep, but…"

Americe brought them some colas. They had become regular enough that she knew what they wanted without them having to tell her. "Usual, boys?"

Simon nodded and she walked off.

"Still bugs ya?"

Simon nodded. "I love her though. Call me the fool that I am, but I do." He looked Will square in the eyes. "Do you think it will last?"

Will hesitated, trying to decide what to tell his friend. "It's hard to say, when it comes to the Lady."

Simon laughed, but it wasn't happily. "That's your way of saying 'no'. You of all people have always been more in tune with what she wants and how she feels more than anyone else. You know her better than anyone else ever will."

Will shrugged again and followed Simon's gaze to the dance floor again.

"She loves dancing, you know."

Will nodded and Americe brought them their orders. Will set into his grilled cheese almost immediately, but Simon pushed his veggie lasagna around his plate a little, not really eating. Americe seemed to notice his foul mood and took the seat next to him, giving him a little half-hug.

"It'll all work out Si, you'll see."

Simon snorted. "Easy for you to say. You have Jonas. Jonas adores you."

Americe's face fell a little. "Sometimes I wonder…" she said quietly. She put her arms on the table, her bangles clattering against the wood. She frowned at Will, who was munching with one hand and carving with the other.

"That's vandalism."

"I know." Will said around his sandwich. "But I also know that you don't care."

Americe chuckled. She genuinely liked Will. He was easy to get along with, and funny too. She could tell that he cared about his friends, Simon and Clary, accepting how things were between them even though, to Americe, it was obvious that he loved the little red-head. Will was good natured and caring. Traditional boundaries didn't matter to him, and he let himself make decisions based on his own experience. That, more than anything else, was practically a blinking arrow screaming WINNER pointing at Will.

Will glanced at her. He had set down his knife and finished his meal and was mopping up ketchup with his fries now. "Don't you have to be, you know, greeting customers?"

Americe waved her hand. "It's late. We may live in New York, but people tend to let this fine establishment be after the later hours. You two will be the last to leave, just watch. I'm about to get off my shift, anyways. Jonas too. I told him to come sit with us once he was done.

True to her word, a shaggy headed boy jogged up the stairs a few minutes later and walked over to greet them.

"Simon, Will." He nodded at each of them in greeting, and then pulled up a chair at the end of the table. Americe slid into his lab and he draped his arm around her. Jonas was the bartender, although he looked to be somewhere around seventeen. He was also Americe's boyfriend, supposedly her one true love; an idea that made Will smile. He liked it when people got happy endings, it made for nice music. Jonas played with his girlfriend's hair a little as he looked between the two boys.

"You guys are quiet tonight," he remarked, raising his eyebrows. "Where's Clares?"

"With her other friends doing God knows what," Simon said. He looked terribly pathetic now, nursing his drink with a sad expression on his face.

Jonas looked startled. "You people have other friends? Never would've guessed. You guys are too tight to take time for others."

Will smiled ruefully. "Sometimes, we just can't stand each other."

"Can't imagine why, my friend," Jonas said, waving a bottle of root beer he hadn't had a moment before. "Can't imagine why." He took a sip of his drink and set it down on the table.

Simon sighed and stood up. "I better be getting home. My mom's going to wonder where I am."

"And Clary," Americe added.

Simon stared at her. "Probably not. Probably just my mother, and maybe Luke, but not Clary."

Americe reached out and patted his hand. Simon sighed and Will looked up at him. "Want a ride?"

Simon chewed his lip, and then shook his head. "I can probably get a cab."

Will nodded, but looked concerned, his eyes following Simon as he left. "I worry about him sometimes," Will muttered.

Jonas plopped the not he had made with Americe's hair back on top of her head. "Then follow him, and keep him safe."

Will nodded numbly and took once last sip of his soda as he stood up. He shot a quick look at Jonas. "See you around?"

Jonas smiled a wicked grin. "Always." He held out his hand and Will shook it, but he was already leaving, jogging down the steps and out the door, keys out and jingling. The couple watched him as he left.

"Not bad, for his kind," Jonas said softly.

"No, not bad at all," Americe said, leaning her head against her boyfriend's chest. "Not bad at all."


	7. Chapter 7

Will set down his viola and picked up his phone, glaring at the screen as he checked to see if Clary had called him back yet. It had been days since he had seen or heard from her or Simon, and although he wouldn't say was worried, he was certainly getting close. He sighed when he saw she hadn't and dialed in her number for the seventh time. Usually, she picked up on the first ring. There had never been a time, besides during his "exile" that he hadn't been able to reach her at a moment's notice. Now that he encountered the issue, he was more than slightly annoyed. He waited, staring at the star pattern on the ceiling that she had helped him paint in the first few days of their reunion. The phone rang, and then went to voice mail. Will didn't even bother leaving a message. He had left enough already. More would just be weird.

His mom, Carlyn, peaked into his room, holding a plate with a sandwich. She looked slightly bemused at the image of her son standing in the middle of the room, staring at it as if doing so could make it achieve his desired outcome.

"Still calling Clary? William, if she won't pick up, then she won't pick up. She's probably busy, let her be."

Will looked at her like if she was crazy. "The Lady is a first-call, first-ring kind of person. Something is wrong." He glanced at his music. "I am half-inclined to go help her solve whatever pickle she's created for herself now."

Carlyn sighed. "William, Jocelyn will definitely not appreciate you barging in her privacy." She set the sandwich down on the blue bedspread and walked over to the music stand as Will returned to playing position with an almost theatrical movement.

"What are you playing?" She asked, glancing over the music. She herself was a cellist, but she knew her son's musical abilities far outdid her own.

"Fantasia Cromatica," he said, even as he began to play. She stayed and listened for a few moments, closing her eyes, letting the image of the music fill her. Will's music did that, created pictures in people's heads. The notes here were reminiscent of a bird in flight, almost, but not quite. Today, that image was elusive, the notes were talking to him, and him alone. She opened her eyes and for a heartbeat watched him, eyes closed in a peaceful way that was almost like sleep. The long sweeps of his right arm as he moved his bow across the strings. He reminded her of his father; standing alone and playing sad music. She shook her head at the sudden thought, clearing it from her mind, then walked away, the solo escorting her down the hallway and throughout the house, until she was too far away, and the sound became muffled.

Will put down his viola and crossed the floor of his room when he had finished. He picked up his sandwich, sent Clary, and then Celia a quick text and stared out the window. Night was falling on the city, his city. He always thought that, while many things were beautiful by day, night was probably one of the best times. The sun was setting and everything was painted a careful pinkish gold, soon to be a deep black satin studded with jewels. So was the view of New York from Will's room on Staten Island. He finished his sandwich and picked up his viola again, hoping to herald the coming of glorious, gracious night with a good piece. He looked about the sight for a moment, then, as Clary may carefully choose the medium and canvas for a portrait, began to play. A sonata called Arpeggione was his choice and he smiled as he played. It was meant to be played with a piano, but, although he lacked one, he could still hear the notes that were missing filling the space in his head. He had always thought that this song was somehow royal and honest. Beautiful too, with curving notes like that of an old-fashioned dance song. It reminded him of a king and a queen, sitting watching their court. Halfway through, his phone started buzzing, and he peeped at it through a half-opened eye, quite affronted by the idea of being disturbed in his audienceless concert. He set down his viola with a much dramatic sigh.

"This better be good. I was playing."

Celia laughed. "I'm sure you were. You always are."

"Not _always_."

"Almost. You live and breathe music. Ky and I are considering holding an intervention next time we see you."

"Touch any of my violas, you die."

"_Violas_? It's a plural now? Oh, Willim."

"They were just so pretty…"

Will could practically hear Celia rolling her eyes.

"You're like a girl in a shoe store. Only somehow, much, much worse."

"Ha-ha"

"Yes, it's all very amusing, only in the sad sort of way. You asked about Clary though. I envisioned a sad voice and a hurt-puppy face when I read that, you know. "

"I don't know what's wrong."

"Willim, you need to accept the fact that Clary, unlike you, has a life. Have you accepted it? No? Do it. Do it now. Good. Now accept the fact that Clary will eventually call you back. It will happen. She's not just about to up and abandon you, OK? You both care about each other WAAAY too much for that to happen. Now that you've done these things, I want you to stop annoying Clary and Simon, and start playing your viola again, because unless the rest of the Departed show up on your doorstep, which I can assure you I, for one, do not plan on doing, they are your only nearby friends, and if you cannot get in contact with them now, then you'll have to resign yourself to wait."

"I feel like I just got told off at the principal's office at school."

"Close enough. I've been told I'm a rough peanut."

Will laughed and glanced out the window, watching the flaming disk of sun sink below the skyline. "I don't like waiting though."

"You never have, you'll have to learn. Any chance I'll hear some viola tonight?"

"No," Will said, already picking up his viola and preparing to hang up, "Probably not."

Celia sighed. "Oh, all right. She will call."

"I know," Will said. He propped his viola under his chin

"Call me when she does. You know I like hearing about her if I can't hear from her. Now I've got to go, there's a party at a certain rowdy werewolf's house tonight and I still need to get ready."

Will smiled. Celia and her parties. "Stay safe, Glitter."

"I always do. Talk to you later, Willim." She said, then hung up.

"Talk to you later, Ceals," Will said to the empty line. Then he picked up his viola and began again, thoughts stuck firmly on why Clary could possiblely be so preoccupied, but not even coming close to guessing the real truth.


	8. Chapter 8

Will, Clary and Simon were back at The Flying Valkyrie.

"Well," Will said, leaning back in the booth, "It certainly took long enough to meet up again. God, Lady, next time you're busy, the least you could do is answer _one_ of my calls and say so." Although Will's mood was light, he couldn't help glance back and forth between his friends with a slight look of suspicion. Simon, sitting next to him, looked exhausted. Clary still looked sick. And he had just found they broke up with each other. He was never leaving them to their own devises again, the outcome was too unpredictable.

Clary waved a tired hand. She looked horrid, and Will had told her so when she had sat down, her only response had been to shake her head and ignore his comments, preferring instead to trace designs on the table as if looking for the answers in the curves of her invisible pictures. There was more wrong than she was telling him, but he didn't push her. If she wanted to tell him what was wrong, she would in her own time. Will knew Clary well enough to know she needed her space. "I really was sick," She said.

Will gave her a pointed look. "I know. Wise Eyes told me while we had a Star Wars marathon. He didn't eat all the popcorn, for once." He had meant to be joking, but no one smiled. _They are REALLY out of it, _Will thought to himself.

"So how are they," Will said, grabbing a handful of the tortilla chips Americe had brought them from the basket on the table. "You're new jock friends?" He looked at her while he munched on them. He had hoped to distract Clary from whatever dark thoughts were plaguing her, but she only looked more miserable.

"Oh, they're fine, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

She shrugged. "I talked to Jace today. He says everyone's alright, so…" She trailed off.

Clary and Simon had explained to him about the friends they had made that summer, at about the same time he had gotten back, actually. Jace, Isabelle, and Alec. Apparently they had met at a night club and gone on an adventure after some vandals. In a stunning turn of events, they had found a similar problem to help. Will smelled a fish in the whole story, but had decided not to ask. If it was important, it would come out eventually, better to let Simon and Clary follow through their course of action, they probably had a reason.

"You know what I think," Will said, swallowing the last of his chips. "I think we need to go on an escapade. Before school starts up again, yeah? I don't know about you two, but I feel like doing something reckless in Jersey."

Clary looked up, slightly bemused at Will's idea. He always managed to figure out how to make her laugh and pull her out of her moods in the grand scheme of things. He always had, ever since they were kids. She had been drawing traces of invisible runes on the table, none that really mattered, just memories from the Lightwoods' skin, and thinking about Jace, and what _he_ had said, and Madeleine, and what _she_ had said. It was all very confusing. Sometimes, she wished she could tell Will all about her being a shadowhunter. It was only the thought that she would regret it later, tainting this last bit of her normal life with the dark stain that was her impossible world, that stopped her every time. She had told Simon to do the same and he had-reluctantly-agreed. She was pretty sure he knew what she meant now though, since this last week, what with almost getting killed by Valentine.

"You know what?" Clary said. "I'd love to, really, but I'm about to go on a trip to Europe and I won't have time."

Will groaned. "Lady."

Simon looked surprised; Clary shot him a look that she hoed screamed "I'll tell you later". Simon's brow furrowed, but he nodded.

Clary nodded. "Yep. With the Lightwoods. There's something I need to do."

Will looked at her, his elbows were resting on the table, but his hands were in his hair, pulling it up, so his head hung suspended. "What?"

Clary contemplated how to answer that. "Stuff."

Will looked at Simon, appealing for help. "Is she avoiding me now? I think she's avoiding me."

Simon looked at Will like if he was crazy. "Why would she want to avoid you?"

Will swept his hands at Clary as if pointing at something that Simon didn't see that was very large and obvious. "It's the Lady. Why does she ever do _anything_?"

Simon studied Clary and shrugged, swayed by Will's argument. "Fair point."

"I'll explain later, I just…have to do this? OK?"

Will sat back again, defeated. "Fine. But I still want to go on an escapade. Something grand and stupid and that will get us yelled at by our parents, alright?" He pointed a chip at her to emphasize his words, and she smiled a little more, although that smile, Will noted, faltered a bit at the mention of parents. What was wrong with Jocelyn?

"Hey," said Clary, raising her hands in surrender, "I'm game for anything. It Simon who has to OK it, remember."

Simon looked back and forth between his two best friends with a look that said he was going to regret whatever it was they were about to drag him into. _It'd be nice, though, _he reflected to himself, _to just get away from all this and stop having to worry about it. _He sighed.

"All right. You've got me. We'll go do all that junk." He looked meaningfully at the two of them though. "But only after Clary gets back and at the first sign of illegal activity, I'm leaving."

Will laughed, a hearty, happy, laugh. "OK, Wise Eyes, OK. Terms accepted." He rubbed his hands together with mischievous glee. "Now what is it," he said, glancing back and forth between Clary's happily content expression and Simon's wary one, "We should do?"

Americe walked up and gave them their orders. Simon hadn't gotten anything, but Clary had a stack of chocolate chip pancakes as big as her head. Americe looked at the threesome suspiciously. "What are you kids planning?"

Will looked at her innocently. "An adventure, of course."

Americe rolled her eyes and Clary set into her pancakes. "Because that definetly something all of you need. Do me a favor, leave me out of it."

"But our adventures are always interesting." Will remarked.

"I'm sure they are. Tell me the story when you get back. I'll be wanting to hear it."

"Oh, we will," Simon said, almost mournfully. "Whether you want to or not, we will."

Americe laughed and walked away. Something about that group just made her happy just watching them.


	9. Chapter 9

Celia walked out of the party, the colorful lights thrashing out the windows, bass drum pumping as it escorted her out. A boy sulking in the door called her an unprintable name and she looked at him, disgusted.

_Boys these days, _she thought to herself. _Doesn't matter how polite I am to them, they always have to be rude to me. _What she wanted to do was, at the very least, give him a rude gesture in response and, at worse, take him into the back alley and beat him to tomorrow, but her upbringing dictated she do otherwise.

"You have no idea how lucky you are, sweetheart" She muttered under her breath as she walked down the sidewalk.

The back streets were a very interesting place at night. Mostly empty at three a.m. in the morning, true, but never the less, an interesting place. You had your typical city drunkards wandering home after a late night at the bar, the smokers on the corner, eyeing everything antagonistically as if waiting to be jumped at any moment, the lovers, kissing in doorways and on steps and off to the sides in the alleys, and then there were the shadows that you couldn't really see except for in your peripherals, but you knew were lurking there anyways, watching you as you went on your way. Then there were the noises that were always present in a city, the stream of cars, and the wail of sirens, music pounding from clubs, the occasional breaking glass and shriek. No city ever truly shut down and became quiet, it was impossible. Cram that many people together in that close of a space and noise would always be shooting forth.

She cut through an alley in a short-cut on her way back to the institute. Most girls would have known to stick to open streets if they were dressed as she was, in a short frayed jean skirt and a knit cable sweater with a neckline big enough to hang off one shoulder. She wasn't though, for, as provocatively as Celia may have chosen to dress that night, she also knew that she was armed with a dagger that she was trained to use. Normal muggers didn't stand a chance. Not that she would've minded a fight, it was always a good fun to spice things up a bit.

She made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat when she saw to people making out noisily and doing a whole lot worse at the end of the alley. She rolled her eyes. Why couldn't people be private about these things? She went out her way to do so, it was what was polite. As she got closer though, she stopped. She didn't know the girl that clung so desperately to her companion, but she knew the boy, and at that moment she very much didn't like that she knew him.

She stopped and stared at them when she got to be about ten feet away. "Nicholas?" She demanded.

The couple quickly separated, the girl glancing between Celia and Nick with large, desperate, confused eyes. Celia glared at her.

"Go home, honey, before I slap you."

The girl looked to Nick, appealing for help. He just waved her away. "Go home Star. I'll call you later."

The girl, Star, nodded and started walking away, throwing concerned glances over her shoulder as she walked. Celia stared daggers at her.

"_Go._"

The girl started sprinting off, and Celia turned her gaze to her brother's boyfriend.

"You'll _CALL HER LATER?_"

"Celia," He began.

"NO. You ARE NOT talking to me." She moved to walk past him, but without turning he grabbed her bicep and turned her to face him

"Let me explain."

"Explain? Explain what you -" Celia called him a highly inappropriate name. He made a face. She leaned in close to him. "You want to explain what you were doing making out with a girl, Nicholas? Is that what you want to do? Well I don't care. I know what I saw. You can't explain yourself out of it." She hissed.

Nick looked at her with more hatered than anyone one person should ever contain, and then pulled her roughly farther into the alley. The Institute's tall spires rose out of the skyline a block away.

"You listen to me Celia and you listen to me now. You are NOT going to tell Kyros about this, you are not going to utter a single word. Do you hear me?" He spoke in a low, urgent whisper, matching the tone she had taken with him.

Celia spat at him and writhed, trying to pull free of his tight grasp, reaching for her knife at the same time. "Like Hell I won't."

Nick slapped her, and Celia couldn't help but pause and stare at him in shock. His usually neat tawny hair was messed up, and a few strands were falling in his face. Say what she would about Nick, he was usually a very good natured guy with only hints of something more dangerous lurking under the surface. Now that surface was peeled back and Celia could see all the ugly that was in him.

"I hate you." She said, her voice trembling. _Don't cry,_ she screamed at herself. _You will not cry._

She bit her lip and flinched as he raised his hand to slap her again, but then her fingers had found her knife and she swung up and hit him full in the eye with the hilt, then she swung the blade down and cut him around the curve of his face, from the corner of his left eye to his chin. Nick bent over, screaming in the way that boys do; a mixture between a cry of pain and a shout of outrage. Celia didn't care though; she had already dropped the knife, turned and sprinted away, swallowing back her tears as she ran home.

She sprinted past KY, who had been dozing in the foyer, waiting for her, when she got home. He woke up at the sound of the door slamming and looked at her racing figure in disbelief.

"Ceals?" He asked, bewildered. Then, when she didn't answer, "Celia!"

She didn't stop to listen, despite her best efforts, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She slammed her door after her when she got to her rooms and curled up on her bed. A few moments later, she heard Ky creak the door open and felt the bed sink a little under his weight as he sat down next to her. He went to put his hand on her shoulder, but she weakly slapped it away, hiccupping on the gut-awful feeling that seemed to be filing her up.

"OK," Ky said, taking back his hand and moving to pull up a chair next to the bed. "OK."

Sweet Ky, always so kind, always so trusting. How innocent of the cruel world he was, how ignorant of the truth of the trouble that was in it!

After a few seconds more, Celia's tears stopped falling and her hiccups came less spastically. Her finger traced the pattern of one of the polka-dots on the bed spread. "You need to break up with Nick," She said, without rolling over.

She could hear the surprise in her brother's voice. "What? Celia, that's crazy! Why?"

Now she did roll over, and she stared at him, letting him see all the hurt and despair she felt at having to be this awful messenger. "Because he's not the person you think he is Ky. He's despicable and you can't trust him."

Ky looked at her and saw that something was wrong immediately, his brow furrowed with concern and he moved from his hair to sit next to his sister, brushing her loose curls off of her face. "Celia," He said softly, "What happened?"

Celia squeezed her eyes shut.

"Ceals," He asked again, and she could hear in his voice the pain he felt at knowing his sister was hurting and not being able to doing anything about it.

_He's always there for me, _Celia thought to herself, _now I'm going to have to be there for him._

Then she looked him straight in the eyes and told him what had happened. His eyes widened astonishment, but then he sank back, eyes closed in silent agony, as he struggled to take it all in. Celia got on her knees, feeling her weight shift on the unsteady surface of her bed as she did so, and wrapped her arms around her brother, tucking her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ky," she moaned.

He reached up and squeezed her hands. "Not as much as I am, Ceals. Believe me, not as much as I am."

He stood up and opened his eyes with a sigh. Celia stared up at him, eyes wide with fear. It was stunning, she thought, as she looked at him now, how much the two of them looked alike. Same wavy dark brown hair, same grey eyes, although Ky's were pinched now with the bleeding wounds he suffered inside. He bent down and kissed his sister on the forehead, smoothing her hair away. Celia grabbed his hand.

"Where are you going?" She asked, eyes searching his face, trying to read him. Normal she could read even the most closed off of faces, and most especially Ky's, but now it was as solid as a brick wall, free of all the turmoil she knew swirled inside him.

He gave her a sad smile. "To call Nicholas. We can't keep things up if it's going to be like this."

"Ok," Celia said, dropping her brother's callused hand. She watched as he turned and walked out of her room, shoulders hunched. Celia pulled her knees up under her chin and regarded the door with despondent eyes. Ky was going to be broken without any hope of repair now, Celia could feel it, like a shard of ice in her heart that was slowly turning the rest of her numb. The thought, the feeling, terrified her.

"Now what's going to happen?" she whispered to the empty air as she shivered, half with and evening chill and half with an unnamable dread.


	10. Chapter 10

Simon walked home with Clary. The moment they had finished eating dinner with Will and she had left, he had rushed to follow her. Things just felt generally strange around them, but Simon could already feel them coming away and besides, he needed to talk to her about these sudden plans to travel to Europe.

"I still don't get it," he said. Clary had explained to him about Idris, and Ragnor Fell, and healing her mother, but some obstinacy in Simon didn't want her leaving. After all that had happened in the past month, he just didn't want to let her out of his sight.

Clary sighed. "Yes you do, you're just being stubborn about it. I _have_ to go Simon, alright? This is the only way to fix things."

"Alright. If you must. I want to talk to you about Will though."

"What about him?" Was is it just Simon, or was there a nervous edge in Clary's voice?

"I want you to tell him the truth."

Clary relaxed marginally and Simon wondered what she thought he had been about to ask her about.

"You know I can't do that."

"Can't or won't?" Simon asked, his breath puffing out in front of him as they emerged from the subway and started walking towards Luke's house.

Clary considered. "Won't." She finally said.

"He deserves to know Clary. How would you feel if he was hiding a piece of his life that was this big from you?"

Clary pouted. "He wouldn't. He and I have always told each other this kind of thing."

Simon sighed. "Then why are you hiding it from him?" They had almost reached Luke's door.

Clary stopped and looked down at her hands. "Because I want to hold onto this one last piece of my life that hasn't changed and keep it normal." Her voice seemed very small in the wide expanse of the city night.

Simon let his breath come out in a puff, looking past Clary at the sparkling towers of Manhattan. "Just…think about it, all right? You two are too close to hide things from each other, and he deserves to know."

Clary bit her lip and followed his gaze over towards the sparkling crown that crouched, isolated, on its island.

"Alright. But only after I get back from Idris." She bumped Simon with her shoulder and started heading up the walk to Luke's house. "Maybe while we're being reckless in Jersey, yeah?"

Simon smiled. "Sure. 'Night Clary."

She turned and waved at him from the stoop, and he waved back, then started walking back home. He may not have gotten Clary to agree, but with Clary, sometimes you had to go in baby steps.

[][][]

Will walked in his front door whistling softly. All things considered, he wasn't in a bad mood. He had mostly patched up whatever funk his friends had gotten into and planned a fun trip that would promise memories they would laugh at in the meantime. His mother sat at the table, sipping from a cup of tea. He stopped to kiss her on her head as he walked through the kitchen and pulled down a teacup to have a glass.

"Hey mom."

"Hello dear. Did you have a nice time?"

Will turned around a nodded, raising his glass to his lips. "We made plans to go to Jersey."

His mother raised her eyebrows. "Not too soon, I hope. We have to go to Idris."

Will set down his cup on the counter and folded his arms over his chest, leaning back and considering the image his mother, sitting in the fading light, at their table. "Why?"

"It would seem that Valentine Morgenstern had become a threat."

Will looked confused. "I thought he was a fairy tale."

Carlyn smiled sadly. "No, dear, he never was. I didn't get the chance to know him personally, I was raised back home in England and France. But I was good friends with Stephan Herondale, who later joined his 'Circle'."

"So what does this have to do with us?"

"It would appear that the Clave is calling together a meeting of everyone who's currently active and inquire how we should react about."

Will picked up his tea again. "That's a terrible idea, getting all together like that. If pop culture's taught me anything, it's that we're waiting to get ambushed. Didn't the Clave watch Avatar?"

Carlyn smiled at her son's humor. He was a smart boy. "We are shadowhunters, dear, and a formidable force to contend with."

Will snorted and took a sip of tea. "So were Na'vi, and they got screwed at the first hit."

"We have to do this if we're going to act William. This is how it's always been done."

"The Clave needs to incorporate this awesome thing called 'Skype Conferences'."

"Technology doesn't work in Idris. Besides, the Clave is slow to change its ways, and if something bad happened, what then? We'd all be divided." Carlyn stood up and laid a gentle hand on her son's arm as she walked away. "Go pack. I want to leave tomorrow or the day after."

Will sighed and pulled away from the counter. He had finished his tea anyways. Might as well go pack.

[][][]

Celia pulled herself out of bed, all of her hair clumped to one side of her head. She caught a glimpse of her bed-head as she walked out the door and sneered at it. She had changed into a pair of running shorts and a loose cami and fallen asleep somewhere around four thirty last night, but hadn't really thought about hair or make-up, so she still had dried black lines from where her mascara had run painted on her cheeks. She frowned at her reflection and rubbed them off quickly and then, having deemed herself fit for viewing by her family, grumbled her way to the kitchen. She couldn't help but glare at her father when she got there; he was sitting quite perkily at the kitchen table, glancing over the newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. Celia hadn't drunk anything the night before, but she felt hung-over and as a general rule, hated people who didn't feel the same as she did on such bad mornings.

He raised his eyebrows. "Good morning, Bug." He glanced at his watch. "Although it's really more like afternoon. Where's your brother?"

Celia poured herself a cup of coffee, then plopped down at the table. She took a swig and swallowed. She preferred her coffer black. "Probably still in bed. He had a rough night, broke up with Nick."

Elia's eyebrows struggled to reach his hairline. "Did he now? Hmm." Celia looked at him, but he hid his face behind his coffee mug. "Must have been rough on you too, Bug, if I know you."

Celia shrugged. "I always have rough nights. Really, after a while, they all start running together."

Elia chuckled, just as Ky, much in the same mood as Celia, stumbled into the kitchen.

"Where's the coffee," He said, rubbing his eyes, which were half closed with sleep.

Celia drank more out her mug. "On the counter."

Ky stumbled over, looked at the coffee, filled his mug partially with sugar and cream, filled the remaining space very full with coffee, then added more sugar. He collapsed on to the chair next to Celia and started pouring his coffee into his mouth. If the circumstances had been different, Celia would have laughed, as it was she just watched her brother with a wary expression, so did Elia.

Ally glided into the room at that moment, looking as graceful and put-together as always. Although Ky and Celia looked quite a bit alike, it was obvious that Ky was built thinner and more gracefully, like their mother, and Celia was shorter, more muscular, like Elia.

"You two certainly took your time getting up."

"Alessia…" Elia began, but she just shook her head.

"I don't want to hear it."

Elia put his hand over his wife's. "Sweetheart, Ky and Nicholas are no longer a 'thing'."

Ally looked startled, she glanced at Ky. "Does this mean you're going to go back to normal now?"

Hurt flashed across Ky's face, and he stood up. "I think I'm going to go for a walk."

Ally looked after her son, bewildered, and Elia sighed. "Kyros…" He started, but Ky was already out of earshot, his steps thudding on the steps as he walked out.

Ally looked around at her daughter and husband. "Did I say something wrong?"

Elia gave her a sad look. "Nothing you meant, sweetheart, I'm sure."

Celia watched the whole thing with a look, she knew, outwardly, looked detached and only mildly interested, but inside, she was silently fuming. Why couldn't her mother accept Ky for what he was? She stood up. "I'm gonna go to. There's a book that I want to get out of the library."

"Oh," her mother looked up and Celia did her best not to glare at her. "Before you go, I meant to tell you, we've all been called to Idris, something big is happening and the Clave wants everyone there."

Celia sighed. "Must I go?"

Ally nodded firmly. "Start packing now, please, and tell your brother when he gets back." Celia must have looked reluctant because Ally added: "And Will will be there, won't it be nice to see his again?"

Something in Celia's heart fluttered at the mention of seeing Will again, and she rushed to get packed.


	11. Chapter 11

Celia found Will sitting on the steps on the Accords Hall in Idris. An attractive looking blond haired boy was sitting closer to the top and a little farther away, and Celia watched him with interest for a few moments before deciding that tonight was probably not the best night to be found kissing random men. She settled down next to Will, pulling up her long skirts and sitting comfortably on the steps next to him.

"Willim," She said with a smile. He had barely noticed her approach; he had been too busy tuning his viola.

"Glitter," he said, not even looking up, just staring at his viola with an expression that showed how intent he was on getting it properly tuned. He turned the pegs again, and then lifted it up, giving it a swift stroke from his bow. Celia looked on with quiet amusement. Will and his viola, come Heaven or High Hell, the two would always be together.

"Ah," He said. "Here we go." He swung through some scales and arpeggios, then bits and pieces of songs Celia didn't know, but sent shivers running up and down her spine. She watched him with a look of queer affection. Will was the only one she let her walls come down around, probably because he never looked at her close enough to notice the difference. Celia was no fool though; she knew where he had placed his heart and knew that it wasn't with her.

Nevertheless, she leaned her head on his shoulder, clasping her arms around her shins and staring up at the dark sweep of night sky. Will didn't seem to mind, he had already started playing a melody, it was sad and sweet and lovely, and Celia closed her eyes to enjoy it.

"What's that?" she breathed when he paused.

Will sat silently for a moment before his stopped and set his viola next to him and slid his arm around Celia instead. She knew, in her heart, that it was a friendly motion, but still, her breath caught a little. He turned his head to the stars as well.

"The Lady's song. Third Movement. I've adapted and changed it so much through the years I've decided to just give each new version a different part through the years."

"Only you," Celia said, chuckling a little at Will's constant need to relate everything in his life to music.

"Yes, only me."

"Does she know yet?"

"That I'm a Shadowhunter, or that I know she's a Shadowhunter?"

"Both, of course."

"No, to each. The same rules apply now as they did when we were kids, Ceals. I told you that. I won't lose her all over again after all this time just because I think she should know what Jocelyn's been keeping from her."

Celia thought about what she had seen earlier that night in the hall. Should she tell Will? She smiled a little to herself at the idea, her Cheshire Cat smile, as Ky called it, and for good reason; she loved holding information back. Tell Will this news? Never. It's be more fun to let him figure it out for himself.

Celia mocked sighed. "She's gonna be mad when she finds out."

"She won't be mad forever. It's not in her nature."

"You sound very confident."

"I know the Lady better than I know myself. I have every right to be."

Celia laughed and stood up, holding out her hand. "Come with me to get me some ice cream. I'm starving, and I don't want to miss the fireworks because I had a case of the munchies."

Will pulled himself up and grabbed his viola, serenading her as she walked down the steps, so she danced a little as she walked, using wide, expressive arms like she had when she was in ballet once upon a time. Will laughed, but kept playing.

"Fun news for you." She said with a swirl.

"Oh?" Will asked. He had stopped playing as they approached the crowd, as always, something about playing around shadowhunters put him on edge.

"Yep. Seems me and Ky may have given our parents valid enough reason to want to leave LA. I'm pulling for New York if we do, on the grounds that you and the Departed will be around to keep me out of trouble." She smiled and tried to look light and happy, but Will stopped and looked at her with concern.

"What happened?"

Celia shrugged his question off with a graceful movement of her shoulders. "Oh, I was just being…me. And Ky broke up with his boyfriend. The last place he wants to be right now is back there and having to stay. Isn't it so convenient to be a shadowhunter? So simple to pick up shop and move, even if it will take a few months."

Will nodded, but looked sad. "Tell Ky I'm sorry."

Celia smiled, then went to study the dessert bar. Will was always so thoughtful. "I'll be sure to pass along the message."

A tall, slender, black haired girl brushed pass Celia as she stood in front of the table, trying to decide which of the scrumptious desserts she wanted.

"Try the pink one," The girl said, gesturing to what looked like a strawberry smoothie topped with chocolate and whip cream. "They're delicious."

"Why thank you," Celai said, picking it up. "I was having a hard time choosing."

But the other girl barely seemed to care as she a grabbed a stouter brown drink and sashayed away.

Celia shrugged and started sipping her drink, walking back to Will and where he had moved to lean against a building, playing the same piece as earlier.

"Ready?" She asked.

He stopped playing and nodded. She took the arm he offered her and they glided over to a seat just as the first of the fireworks began to pop.

Celia bumped Will with her shoulder. "I'm glad we bumped into each other," She said. The orange of the fireworks reflected on Will's skyward facing eyes, making the pools of blue violet look, for a moment, as if they had caught on fire.

"Me too," he said, "Me too."

Simon was talking to Maia when movement caught his eye just over her shoulder. A boy, tall with a mop of black hair was leaning against a wall of one of the many stone buildings that surrounded Angel Square. His head bent out of sight as he played an instrument that, to any other person, would look like a violin. _No, _Simon thought. _It CAN'T be. _

"Simon," Maia said, looking at him, raising her eyebrows. "Did you hear what I just said?"

Simon shook his head bashfully. "Sorry,"

Maia just laughed. "It's alright. Look, the fireworks are starting." She turned her face skyward as the first of the bright bursts filled the air, lighting up her face with an orange glow. Simon glanced back over to where the boy had been, but he was no longer there.

"Must've been mistaken," Simon said, so softly that only he heard the words. He looked at Clary, happy with Jace's arms around her, then back at the nighttime sky. All of Idris was celebrating, why then, shouldn't he?


	12. Chapter 12

Will and Clary were walking through Central Park. It was late Tuesday, and Clary, after having ascertained that there was absolutely nothing better she could be doing, had decided that they should go to a movie. She hadn't planned for the fact that by the time they go to the theater, that only R rated movies would be playing for the next few hours.

Will laughed. "I totally could've gotten in. Faked it right past that cashier."

Clary joined in, Will's laughter was infectious these days, once he started, he dragged her along after him. She put her hand on his arm as she doubled over, cracking up and gasping for breath, choking on her tears.

"Oh, and what would I have been?" She giggled, the coming idea was just too much for her to contain. "I look like a thirteen year old midget!"

"You don't look like a thirteen year old midget, Lady," Will said, still chuckling, sliding his arm around her waist and squeezing her in a half hug as they walked.

Clary raised her eyebrows. "No?"

Will shook his head. "Lady, you look like a_ ten_ year old midget."

"Hey!" Clary shouted, hitting him in mock outrage, but she was laughing too. Will handed her some of the popcorn they had brought while they were at the theater. They may not have been able to see a movie, but, as Will had pointed out, anytime is popcorn time. She grabbed a handful and shoved it in her mouth, and then turned to Will chewing with her mouth wide open. He laughed harder, his blue eyes squinting shut as he did so.

"So why," Will asked, stopping to take a breath before he finished his question, "are you not spending a night with your lovely boyfriend again?"

Clary shrugged. "Because this is more fun."

In all fact and reality, Clary had just blown off a training session with Jace tonight to spend the time instead with Will, and she couldn't imagine he'd be happy when he next saw her. She was letting all his calls go to voicemail as it was. Will was making bets on how many times Jace would call her every half hour. The grand total for the whole night was already somewhere in the sixties.

Will grinned. "Thanks, Lady. I can't wait 'till I meet Mr. Fantastic to tell him you'd rather spend time with me. I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

Clary laughed and grabbed another massive serving of popcorn. Half she threw out Will, half she ate.

"Hey!" Will said. "Litterer! Pick up that popcorn now or so help me!"

"Not that you really care."

"You're right, I don't, but that doesn't give you a free pass to littler in Central Park!"

"So stop me."

"I would if I could, Lady, trust me."

Clary smiled and skipped off a little. "We need to go jailbreak more often."

"I thought Jersey WAS jailbreak."

Clary laughed a little harder and louder. "I'm pretty sure I'll never be allowed past the state border again,"

"Nonsense. No one caught us. Besides, did Wise Eyes not say he would leave if there was illegal activity? I can testify to the fact he was there the entire time."

"Will, towards the end, you literally took his phone and swore black and blue you would throw it in the East River when we got back if he abandoned us just as we reached the climax of the trip."

Will shrugged. "I couldn't just let him miss out on some quality escapading and memory making."

"We had to leave half his luggage behind as we made our escape."

"And he said it was anticlimactic."

Clary snickered; she just couldn't help it when she and Will started playing off each other like this. It felt like she had stayed up all night and suddenly consumed too much caffeine. Instant happy high. It was insane.

Clary's phone buzzed.

"AH! Twenty Four! Darn you, Mr. Fantastic!"

"Now you owe his six dollars when you meet him."

Will looked somber for a moment. "How is he on gambling? I don't like losing money."

"No luck."

"I'm sure I can confuse him into giving it back."

Clary smiled. She didn't doubt that in the least.

"And explain to me again Wise Eye's situation."

"He's hanging out with Maia, who may or may not be his girlfriend."

"May or may not?" Will chucked some popcorn at some ducks. An older couple also out for an evening stroll glared at him, but Will kept walking, taking some popcorn for himself.

"Well, he also might be dating Isabelle."

"That filthy two-timer."

Clary giggled. "Give him a break. He is a nerd boy; he's never encountered this sort of situation."

"He better get it sorted, or he's gonna have trouble on his hands"

"We're Departed. We're always getting into fixes."

"True, that."

Clary crawled through her bedroom window and checked her cell. She had turned it off somewhere around ten thirty and now mentally cringed. One hundred and twenty six missed calls. She dialed Jace's numbers as she carefully slid the window shut. The last time Jocelyn had seen Will, it had ended with his departure from Clary, so Clary had done her best to keep her mother from being aware of his presence. Sneaking back in, then, and avoiding questions, was the best way to do so.

Jace picked up on the first ring. "Clary where were you? You're going to get in trouble if you do this again."

Clary laughed. Her light mood with Will wasn't anywhere close to spoiling, no matter how angry Jace sounded. "Cool it. I got wrapped up in other junk and lost track of the time, alright?"

Jace sounded personally wounded. "You could've called."

"I turned my phone off. It was that kind of thing. Listen, if it really bothers you, I can make it up tomorrow and we can do something after."

Jace sighed. "Fine."

Clary smiled and sat down on her bed and started pulling off her shoes.

"So what were you doing that required you to be busy until eleven o'clock on a Tuesday?"

"Well I was drawing, and then I met up with Simon."

Technically, it wasn't a lie. She had been drawing before she met Will, and even a little bit during dinner, and Simon had met them for ice cream at this twenty-four-hour parlor they all liked after his date, but a part of Clary still cringed at lying to Jace about Will, she just wanted to keep that part of her life to herself, a reminder of what had once been normal.

Jace laughed. "Love you, Clary."

Clary smiled a little to herself. They'd only been dating a few weeks and her heart still started to thrum a little faster just hearing him say the words she'd been aching to hear the entire time she knew him. "Love you too, Jace."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then. Good night, Clary."

"Night." Clary hung up her phone and lay back on the bed, happiness fluttering like an unpinned butterfly in her chest. Her life just couldn't get better, if anything, it was at an all-time high; Will was by her side, helping her cause mischief, as always, and she and Jace were finally together. Could things ever get better than this?


	13. Chapter 13

Isabelle lightwood sashayed into the bar, instantly starting to look around for Clary; the two had resolved to meet to watch Simon's gig, as they had at every other time that Simon had invited her to watch. Personally, Isabelle didn't think they were all that good, but she thought that the idea was sweet, and besides, Simon always took her out after.

She found Clary sitting at a table off to the side, hands wrapped around a coffee she had obviously picked up somewhere else. What surprised Isabelle though was the fact that Clary wasn't alone. Across from her sat a tall, dark haired boy, who was smiling wildly. With slight surprise, Isabelle noted as her eyes slid across him, that he was fairly attractive looking. She couldn't help but narrow her eyes. She had never met this boy, but she knew that Clary was dating Jace, and Isabelle didn't like that Clary was talking and laughing with some other boy.

She started walking over briskly, a suspicious eye on the boy as he gave some grand gesture, practically wind milling his arms and Clary's laughing increased.

Isabelle stood over Clary and eyed the boy, not bothering to hide her distrust.

"Hey, Clary."

Clary looked up, a little startled. "Oh, Isabelle. I didn't hear you walk up."

"Who's your friend?"

Clary looked at the boy. "Oh. This is-"

He stood up with a graceful movement. "Nobody," he finished, with a wry smile. "Just an old school friend of Clary's." He looked down at her. "I saw her and figured it'd be rude if I didn't stop by and say hello. Please, sit down, I was just leaving, anyways." He nodded at Clary. "Lady."

Clary didn't reply, just waved her hand as if to dismiss him, already lost deep in thought.

Isabelle slid into the abandoned seat and raised her eyebrows, hoping for Clary to clarify what had just happened, but Clary was staring at her coffee and barely paying attention. Isabelle sighed and took a sip of her own drink.

"Who was that?"

Clary looked up, her train of thought broken. "Just and old friend. He moved when I was thirteen. He's thinking of applying to Julliard."

Isabelle wanted to ask more, but the band had just started up again and it was clear that Clary wasn't going to say anymore, so Isabelle took another drink and settled in to watch.

…

That had been two weeks ago. Now, walking home from the Alto Bar, Isabelle thought of that boy, for no good reason. She wasn't sure if it was because she was afraid that Clary was doing the same to Jace as Simon had been to her, but as soon as the idea came to mind, she dismissed it. Clary and Jace had been through too much to be together for Clary to just up and decide she wanted to cheat, plus, it just didn't seem like a very Clary-esque thing to do.

The Isabelle realized why she had thought of him. He had come in, a few moments after Clary. He had leaned against the back wall and watched with mild interest as Kyle sang. What had really captured Isabelle's attention though was how he had straightened up and how his eyes had followed Clary out of the room as she ran out after Jace.

Was he a stalker? Did he have weird visions of being with her? Isabelle was half-tempted to call Clary and suggest they find this guy and take him out for just that purpose, when it occurred to her that probably wasn't correct. Clary knew him and was perfectly comfortable with him, if her laughter and ease from two weeks ago was anything to go by.

If Isabelle was planning on dwelling on the question further though, she never got the chance. She dug her phone out of her pocket at did a double take as she looked at the screen. Why was Clary texting her. Confused, she stepped off to the side, allowing sidewalk traffic to continue, and opened up the message.

**232 Riverside Drive. You need to meet me there right away. It's important.**

What was so important that Clary needed her help. Isabelle typed in her response quickly and joining the stream of traffic, walking briskly. She needed to get to the Institute. Something told her that this was the type of rendezvous that would require gear. If that was the case though, why hadn't Clary just texted Jace? What was going on between those two that they were all of a sudden avoiding one another?

…

Will watched Simon and the band's new singer walk to the apartment with slight interest. He had taken to following Simon of late, just to make sure that his mundane friend was safe. Something about the whole beat of the city just felt off somehow, like a single violin a note behind the rest of the orchestra as it played. It gave him shudders. It was bad enough when it happened in the symphony, even worse when it happened metaphorically in his city.

He supposed he should be just as worried about Clary, but he had known her long enough to know if something creepy happened, something really off the rocker, she would tell him. Perhaps not directly, as Jocelyn had determined that the best was to protect Clary from the Shadow world was _to_ _prevent her from knowing when something was dangerous. _Really, it was mental, but Will could always see in her eyes if something was wrong. They would look a little glazed over, and she would look a little confused, like if she was trying to remember something that was on the edge of her memory but couldn't seem to grasp it. Will had seen that look plenty of times in all the years he had known her, and it had never ceased to make him a little unhappy. He had always thought that the Lady deserved to know these things.

He stood up a little taller and brushed his rain soaked hair out of his eyes as Jace walked up. He had come to associate the name with the face based on assumption. Clary had told him what he looked like, Simon adding in that he was like the nuclear bomb of all boyfriends, and when he had first seen him today, walking away from Clary, he had known.

Will was greatly fascinated by Jace, not in a strange way; he was just purely puzzled by Jace's existence. Perhaps puzzled was not the exact word, it was more like the feeling Will got when he played a stray note. He was used to his Lady looking in only one direction, and the fact that that direction had changed in Will's absence had made Will captivated by what kind of person he was. So far, Will wasn't greatly impressed, but then again, perhaps there was some redeeming quality that Will just didn't see. The Lady was, after all, constantly entrapped in peculiar engagements. He stared at the complex's door for a few minutes more, and then walked away. He was soaked, he was tired, and his mother would be expecting him home soon.


	14. Chapter 14

Will sat down and looked at Clary. She was drawing and erasing and trying to draw again. Her tongue was stuck out in concentration and dedication to her task. She stopped and frowned at the paper.

"Useless. I just can't seem to get it."

Will took a sip of the coke Americe had dropped in front of him the moment she had seen him come in. "Get what?"

Clary waved her hand, dismissing the question. "Simon!" She said with a smile as he slid into the booth looking very, very tired.

"Hello, Wise Eyes."

"Hello, Will." Simon groaned and lay his head down on his arms.

Clary looked concerned. "Are you OK?"

"Besides the fact the both Maia and Izzy dumped me, even though I almost just kissed one of them, my roommate used to be dating Maia, weird things are happening down at the church, and everything else seems to be going to hell in a hand basket?" Simon asked, only pulling his head out of his elbow at the very end.

Will considered all this for a moment. "Well, yeah."

Simon looked like he had expected that response and was trying not to laugh. "Then I'm super."

"Excellent!"

Clary patted Simon's arm. "I'm sorry."

Simon sighed and leaned back. "I know."

Americe came and dropped grilled cheese and pancakes in front of Will and Clary. She put her hand on her hip and looked at Simon. "You look tired, Sweets. You sure you don't want anything? Or have you decided that you don't like the cooking?"

Simon shook his head. "It's not the cooking at all, believe me, I love your food. It's just me. I haven't really been hungry as of late."

"You sure you don't want a chicken noodle or a water, Sweets? I can get them to make something that would snap you out of your funk faster than you can say 'Texas'."

Simon shook his head. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry about me."

Will looked confused. "Why, 'Texas'? Why not, oh, I don't know, 'pickles' or 'please'?"

Americe glared at him. "It's a figure of speech William, and why would he ever say 'pickles'?"

"Exactly my point."

Clary suppressed a laugh and turned to Americe. "So how's Jonas? We haven't seen you two around lately."

Americe's face fell. "He broke up with me."

Clary held opened up her arms and Americe fell into them gratefully, giving the other girl a quick squeeze, and then sat down dejectedly.

"I don't know why, really. He just…he just said-" Americe started sobbing.

"Oh, there, there." Clary circled her hand on the girl's skinny back in what she hoped was a soothing gesture. "I'm sure it will all be fine and he'll come back." She glared at the boys and they quickly made noises of agreement.

"Really, Americe." Will said. "He's a fool if he doesn't know how great of a girl you are. Shame on him if he thinks you're not good enough for him. If he doesn't want you, he doesn't deserve you."

Clary gave him a look as if to say he had gone overboard, but it seemed to comfort Americe. She wiped away the last of the tears streaming down her face and took a napkin, blowing out what sounded like a huge chunk of snot.

"Thanks, Will." She gave him a wan smile, which he returned. "I'm sure you're right. Now I've got to get back to work. Other customers to take care of, yeah?" She stood up, and Clary patted her hand as she left.

Then she turned to Will and Simon. "Let's get him. It's been a while since we beat someone up."

Simon looked greatly alarmed, Will just looked dubious of the idea and mildly bored.

"I thought we were going to stop doing that stuff." Simon threw in quickly, before he could give Will a chance to assent, as Will so often did to Clary's ideas.

Clary looked at him. "We said no such thing. Besides, who are the Departed if not defenders of our friends? Help me on this, Will," Clary said, turning to him in appeal for support in her argument.

Will leaned back, resting his head on his hands, and studied her. "I agree with Wise Eyes, actually."

Both Clary and Simon looked at him in surprise. "What?" They chorused.

Will shrugged. "We can't just go around beating random people up. I mean, I agree, the Departed stick to their friends. Their enemies are our enemies and all that, but really, Jonas is still my friend, at the very least, as astonished as I am that he broke up with Americe, and to be honest, I think she still loves him. Therefore, she might not appreciate any beating-up on our part. If that's not good enough for you, then I put forth that Americe is a strong girl who can fight her own battles and wouldn't like our taking the situation into our own hands."

Clary and Simon looked at him in shock.

"What?" he asked, glancing between the two. "Seriously, what?"

Clary shook her head and stared at him. "I, I don't know what to say. I just can't believe it."

Simon looked at him with something of admiration. "Me too. It's just-You _always _agree with Clary."

Will frowned and took a bite of his sandwich. "Do not. I didn't agree with her on the Crumble Topic."

"That was the Crumble Topic, this is, like, serious Clary stuff. I can't believe one of you is finally getting sane!" Simon raised his hands in a cheer. "YES! I'M NOT ALONE IN THE LET'S-BE-SMART-ABOUT-THINGS CLUB!"

Some of the other patrons frowned at him and he lowered his arms. "Sorry," he stage whispered, pulling himself further into the booth and out of sight.

Clary took a bite of pancake. "I don't understand, but I accept."

Will shrugged. "Sorry, but I just can't morally do it."

"I know. Hey-are you going to the ironworks party tonight? I'd like it if you came."

Will made a face. "Lady…" he began.

Clary gestured with her fork, drawing a circle in the air to close the topic. "I get it. Probably not the best of ideas to upset my mother when she's this close to getting married with your intolerable presence."

Will relaxed a little. "I would if I could, Lady, trust me."

"I do. I just don't understand how the blood could still possible bad or why she even blamed you in the first place. It was my fault, not anyone else's."

"Sometimes, parent's need a scapegoat. She was always a little prejudiced against us doing that sort of thing, and when you got hurt, the heart of the problem, naturally, in her mind, fell to me. I don't mind, really."

"But you got hurt too."

"It doesn't matter. Look, Lady, when she's ready to be reintroduced to my presence and accept the fact you aren't about to abandon me, you can tell her. Until then, I think everyone would just be generally happier with us apart."

Clary sighed. "Alright. Simon, you're not planning on going anymore, are you?"

This time it was Simon who pulled a face. "Are you kidding me? That's insane! Both Isabelle and Maia will be there, and neither of them wants to see me right now."

"I suppose that's true. Perhaps I can hang out with one of them."

"Isn't Jace going?"

"He thinks he might be late."

Will raised his eyebrows, but otherwise didn't comment. "OK. I'm heading home. I have a late-night date with my Viola, and I'm assuming you guys are going to want to get ready for your party. Ride, anyone?"

Clary nodded and stood up. "See ya later, Simon."

Simon raised a hand in farwell and stared moodily at the seat Clary had vacated for a few moments before he too, got up and left.


	15. Chapter 15

Will had his phone chucked between his shoulder and his chin as he talked to Celia. He was standing in his basement, which looked like a disaster zone, looking for sheet music. He knew that the Hoffmeister concerto was down here somewhere; he had started learning it when he was nine, he just couldn't find it. In the background, he could hear the sound of the Cieliserenis got ready to move.

"Ugh," Celia said. "Give me a sec,"

Will smiled as he heard Celia, muffled by her hand, shout something, presumably at her brother.

"They're all so loud about it."

"Celia, it's moving. I don't think that's ever been done quietly."

"They could give it a little effort. I'm going to the training room. No one ever bother's me in there."

"Probably because they're afraid."

"Correct. Now tell me what's wrong with Clary."

"She's like the walking dead, the only exception being that she doesn't smell." Will pulled out the score with happy triumph. "They're you are, my sweet. I've been looking all over for you."

"Um, Will. Still here. What are you proclaiming your love to now, since I'm assuming that you don't call Clary your 'sweet'."

"Nothing, sorry. Just found some sheet music I wanted. Did I really say that out loud?"

"Yep. Forget any plans you might have. I swear you're going to end up married to that oversized violin."

"It's a viola."

"Are we trying to compensate for something, Willim?"

Will scoffed. "NO."

Celia laughed at his humiliation, and Will heard the distant thrum of a knife hitting home on her end of the line.

"Throwing knives now Celia? My, aren't we in a mood today."

"I'm not in a mood. Knives are just fun. Their use is not simply limited to times of frustration, but also those of joy. TWO WEEKS! That's all I have left in this God forsaken city!"

"I don't think god is about to forsake his angels, Celia."

"Just because the name is sweet, doesn't mean the life here is."

"How are your parents taking it?"

"In stride, mostly. My mom doesn't seem to really understand everything, but my dad swooped in and made the executive decision that it was for the best and my mom went along with it. Quite a vacuous woman, my mother."

"Celia, be kind. She means well."

"She just wants to be pretty. It always disgusted her, you know, demon fighting."

Will jogged up the steps up to the first floor. He waved to his mother, who was reading the paper at the table, before continuing on. "Well, it's not for everybody."

"Of course. But anyways, Clary. What's gotten to her?"

"I'm not entirely certain; Simon was vague on the details. Sounds like Jace is gone and she's been having a hard time with questioning."

"Isn't there a shadowhunter missing in your area?"

"Yeah, but I haven't really been paying attention to it. I'm more concerned about the Lady."

"And your viola. Clary sounds like she's acting just like she did after you left though. She must really like this guy, love him, even."

Will didn't respond. Celia sighed and threw another knife into the target. "How's Simon though? You barely talk about him."

"He's just being Simon. He was dating two girls, but they both dumped him when they found out about the other."

"Simon? Really? Wow."

"Well, it's not like either relationship was exclusive, so I personally don't get it."

"Of course you wouldn't. You're A, a guy who's only ever loved one girl, who in turn loved you very much back, and B, well, a guy."

"Thanks, Celia."

"No problem Willim."

Will laughed and set is phone to speaker. He set it on the stand in favor of his viola and flipped to the parts where he actually got to play and began. Celia, on her end of the line, went quiet as she listened. When he stopped, she held the silence in dutiful respect and contemplation for a bit longer.

"Why don't you ever play Harold in Italy? I've always thought that one was pretty."

"Frankly. Celia," Will said, erasing some old fingerings and putting in new ones. He smiled at the jelly stain that was at the edge of one of the pages. "I don't have the music."

"Humph. I'll have to get it for you. It's majestic."

"You just like it because it mentions Italy." Will said, smiling.

"Now that's just ethnic-ist."

"Is that even a word?"

"It doesn't matter, you get my meaning. I heard it on the radio once."

"You? Listening to classical music? Never."

"You synched one of the channels of my radio to an orchestral station when we were both in Chicago, and I forgot to change it."

"Alright." Will played a few bars, trying out his new way of playing and decided he liked it better. Celia, again, was quiet. She seemed to take his playing with a reverence one generally associated with cathedrals.

She continued when he was done. "I'll have to buy you a copy, then."

"Celia, you're awful at picking out sheet music."

"I'm sorry. I only sort of play piano, and the music I get comes out of the compartment in the bench. We can't all be string prodigies with mothers who used to play in professional orchestras."

"Technically, the piano isn't a string."

"It's a grey area. Don't argue with me. I'm trying to make my point."

"OK then."

"Oh, shut up Willim."

"If that's what you want."

"I don't really, but I also want to play with my knives a little more in peace. Send the Departed my love. Now I must excuse myself from this mostly lovely conversation."

"Mostly lovely? How have I not been pleasant?"

"Willim."

"Fine. Talk to you later Ceals."

"Bye Willim."

Will hung up the phone and started playing again, only to be interrupted a few seconds later.

"Will." Clary's voice came clearly through the line, although to Will, who knew her so well, it sounded like if a vital piece was missing.

"Lady," Will said, setting his viola down, already starting to pick up his jacket and keys. His Lady needed him and he would go to her without hesitation. "What do you need?"

"I don't know."

"I'm already on my way." Will said, and walked out the door.


	16. Chapter 16

Celia sat on her bed sorting through her old books and various personal effects. She was elated that they were finally leaving, that she would get to see Will and the Departed again. These last few years had been rough alone, and she was ready to have her friends again.

Ky leaned on the door frame, he looked beaten down, not as happy as he had during the summer, as if as the warmth had left the world, it had left him as well. Celia's face never showed it, but inside, her heart broke a little every time she saw him like this, she knew, deep down, that just as he wasn't happy when she was sad, she was miserable seeing him so hurt, and that neither would be alright until things were mended. She wished she had never seen Nicholas that night. Ky might have been ignorant of how things had been in his relationship, but he had been happy.

"Hey, Ky."

Ky sighed and walked into her room, glancing around. "It looks too empty in here."

Celia's room had been stripped bare of the posters on the wall and all her other pictures, the once red walls were half-covered with egg-shell primer and the warped wooden floor boards had been scrubbed clean of glitter and nail polish. Most of her stuff had been packed away in boxes, leaving tall piles of books for her to sort and pack.

"I'm ready to get out of here."

"You're not going to miss it?"

"Not particularly. But, then again, I don't have as many good memories here as you do."

Ky moved to the window and brushed the curtain aside. "I'm not so sure. They seemed to have turned bitter."

Celia walked over and hugged her brother. "I'm sorry, Ky."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Ceals. You've never done anything wrong."

Celia wanted to laugh, but not in a kind way, in a cynical, how-little-you-know sort of way. Ky had always believed in her, no matter what she did.

Ky sighed and dropped the curtain, untangling himself from Celia's arms. He bent down and picked up one of her books. "Come on, I'll help you with this and then we can go do something fun, yeah?"

Celia nodded and looked at the cover of the book. "OK, that's _Badge of Courage_. It should go over here with _Catch _and _All Quiet_."

"What about Candied?"

"Can-deed. Over by _Don Quixote. _And _House of Mirth_ goes with _Gatsby_ and _Portrait of a Lady_."

"What topics are you organizing these by?"

Celia looked at him and blinked. "Subject matter."

"What do any of these have in common?"

Celia shook her head. "You have to read them. Then it makes sense."

Ky smiled. "You and your books. Anyone who didn't know you wouldn't expect it. Even I can't believe it sometimes."

Celia laughed, but stopped suddenly. A picture of her with the Departed at Clary's thirteenth birthday party had fallen out of _Leaves of Grass _and she paused to look at it. They all looked so happy and innocent. She had her head tipped back as she laughed at some joke she had since forgotten; probably something Simon had whispered in her ear. Will was looking at Clary, as he always was, although his arm was around Celia. Clary was grinning, looking at Larla and Jonathan; Larla was screeching at something that had landed on her shirt, and Jonathan was desperately trying to get it off. Only Simon was looking full on at the camera with a wry smile that said 'of course this happened'. Celia had always loved that photo, despite the fact that it made her heart ache. It showed the Departed as they were; she was always laughing at them, Will was always looking at Clary, Clary was always watching everybody else, Larla and Jonathan were always all over each other, leaving Simon as the only one who was ever clear headed and paying attention.

She missed them, each and every one of them. She hadn't realized it until she looked at him now, but Simon especially, with his calm smiles and gentle hands. Simon, who everyone always so easily overlooked in the excitement. He had always looked at her like if she was a delicate piece of glass. No one else she had ever met, before or since, had ever done that to her. She didn't love him, just…missed him. The way she might miss Ky if they were separated for a long period of time.

Ky saw what she was looking at and smiled. "I remember that day. A goat tried to eat my jacket."

"And I got pushed into the fountain. It was a lot of fun." Celia carefully tucked the picture back between the pages of the book and held it with a careful tenderness. "Don't pack this one up just yet, Ky. Alright?"

Ky nodded and took the book from Celia's hand and set it gently on the bed.

Ally materialized in the doorway. "Almost done packing?"

Ky straightened up and dusted off his hands. "Just about. I am, but I was helping Ceals."

Ally smiled. "I love seeing you two getting together like this."

Celia smiled, but otherwise held back her any comments. _You just like it because it's an idealized family_, Celia thought.

Ky looked at her reproachfully, over his shoulder and out of the view of their mother, as if he could hear her thoughts. Celia shrugged a little and stood up as well.

"Do you want to go get lunch or something?" She asked.

Ally looked surprise, and not without merit. Her daughter rarely took the opportunity to spend time with her. Really, Celia was an entity entirely unto herself, she existed apart from the rest of the family, interacting almost exclusively with Ky and on occasion, Elia, but almost never with Ally.

"Um. Sure. Let me get my coat."

Ky looked back as his sister with a curious expression, but all she did was shrug and smile a little.

It wasn't that Celia didn't love her mother; she just didn't understand her mother's ways. Ally and Elia Cielisereni were both devout Catholics, although Elia was a bit more lenient in his faith, and they had raised their children to be the same. Ally had always taken it as her personal mandate to hunt the demons she had been born to fight, no matter how disgusted she was by the process. Those truths, that of her Lord Savior and of her Heavenly Mandate, guided her life with an unerring straightforwardness that omitted all other possible details. Any other idea, fact, or belief, seemed to be just outside her understanding.

Celia had taught and raised herself, through her personal library and window to the world and it's societies, to see relations and lives of others in a wide view, to understand that there was a diversity and complexity to existence she didn't think her mother could ever understand. So while she tolerated her mother, and loved her as well as any daughter who was not terribly close to their parents could, she did not hold any tight-knit relationship with her.

Celia pulled her coat off the hook by the door and followed her brother and her mother out the door.


	17. Chapter 17

Celia knocked on the smooth red painted door of the large household that stood before her. Under any other circumstances, it would be imposing, but knowing who it belonged to made it all the more friendlier. Turning around, she surveyed the area. She had been pleased to be back in New York, among the sights and sounds of the city, and now, standing at Will's door, she felt more at home than ever before. She could see in the distance how the yard fell away behind the house as it met the water, turbulent as it was with the brisk air. Will's family was, as far as Celia knew, an old one, with money behind it, and when shadowhunters had come to America in the early 1900s, his family had acquired it for themselves and passed it on, through the generations.

The door flew open and there was WiIl himself.

"Celia!" He exclaimed, his face lighting up at the sight of her. He pulled her in for a quick hug, then held her back and expected her.

She was dressed a bit more modestly than usual, in just some skinny jeans and a fitted V-neck t-shirt under an old jean jacket. She smiled at his inspection.

"I dressed nicely, just for you." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and he laughed then gestured for her to follow him into a front hallway. The wooded floor was dented and scraped in some places, though an elaborated rug attempted to hide the worst of it. Will caught her inspecting it and made a face.

"I never like it when they look busy like this. Mom's all over it, of course, but still."

She slid her jacket onto one of the wooden pegs on the wall and pushed off her heels onto the proffered mat. Without them, she wasn't as tall as Will, and he almost had to bend his chin to his chest when he looked at her. Almost, but not quite. She and Clary had always been a little bit smaller in stature. The boys had all promised to become towering giants and Lars had held, even in her young childhood, a ribbon-like slimness that reminded Celia of a willow tree. Quietly she padded after Will into the main living room and up the stairs. He still skipped every-other. Just like he had when they were kids; they all had, no matter the size of their stride, almost as if they were too eager to see what lay above to take things slowly.

"So do you miss your warmer weather?"

"I don't care about weather. This is New York, my adopted city."

Will looked at her curiously. "I forget sometimes that you grew up in Allicante."

Celia shrugged. "And you and Clary and Simon always belonged here. My home is with the Departed, and this had always been where the Departed are."

Will chuckled as he guided her through the halls. "So who's taking over the LA institute?"

"Um. A family called the Blackthorns, I think. My mom says they're old blood."

"We're shadowhunters. We're all old blood."

"Still. They seemed nice enough. Their daughter and Ky really hit it off."

Will looked at her questionably.

"She and Ky have similar romantic tastes, if you catch my drift."

"Ah." Will cracked open his door and Celia followed him inside, unable to contain a happy smile. His room looked much as it always had; a star-scape for a ceiling that faded into pale blue walls. There was that same blue bedspread that he had had for seemingly forever, but Celia could remember a time when it too, had been pattered with stars. Sheet music lay scattered in one corner, like coloring pages of an eight-year-old, although, Celia reflected, at heart, that was around the age that Will was.

"Welcome to my humble hole in the wall."

Celia plopped down on the bed and watched Will with careful eyes; he had picked up his viola and was getting ready to resume playing. Celia assumed that was what he had been doing before she arrived, as any other occupation would have allowed him to answer the door sooner and would have prevented him from picking up his instrument so thoughtlessly now. He played a quick arpeggio then some wild tune and rhythm, his eyes rested on her for a few minutes before he determined that she wouldn't cause any trouble, and then he turned to face the window. Celia, for her part, studied the various Violas he had hanging on the wall.

There was a black, abstractly shaped electric one, as well as a regular wooden one with a hold that allowed it to be plugged up to an amp. Just three, including the one he was playing, which was surprising, but understandable. Will loved playing the viola, it was one of his passions. He tended to treat every instrument he encountered as if it was a small child. Three, Celia could see, was enough to meet his needs without having an excess where there would be instruments he would all too often ignore.

"So how is everybody? Clary especially. The searches must have driven you crazy."

Will nodded, a slight smile on his face. "They voted to de-prioritize them though, so they're coming to a stop. I hated doing them."

"Why? Because you couldn't take care of Clary?" Will had told her what he understood to have happened and Celia was certain he would figure the whole thing out, connect Jace, Clary, all of it, but he hadn't. Funny how when something was off with his 'Lady', he focused single-mindedly on her and barely anything else.

Will sat down on the bed next to Celia and started plucking a theme that sounded very distressing and made some resonant part of Celia feel uncomfortable. "I mean, Simon's been staying with her most nights, and he tells me she's managing, but…"

"I know. How is the Lover, by the way?"

Will's mouth quirked up in a funny half smile at reminder of Celia's old nickname for Simon.

"Alright. He had his share of girl problems, but he's alright. Formed a band."

"I bet you're devastated. That was always your dream."

"I can't make a valid argument without Lars and Johnny Boy to back me up and convince him of the whole idea."

Celia laughed and they sat in silence for a few moments, Will still plucking. She frowned at him.

"Stop that."

Will looked surprised. "Stop what?"

"That. What you're plucking. It's freaking me out."

Will looked down at his hands. "Oh, sorry. I was thinking."

Celia raised her eyebrows at him. "I don't even want to know what you were thinking about if it's producing music that sounds like that." She sighed. Will's unrest was tangible, and it made her feel uneasy; he was normally such a solid person. She was saved from having to comment further on it by Will's phone buzzing. He snatched it up and sprung off the bed, nimble as a jack unfolding from its box.

"Lady?" The hope and relief was plain in his face. Distantly, Celia wondered if anyone besides herself realized and heard that it was there, that it was always there, whenever he talked to or about Clary.

His face turned concerned, his handsome blue eyes filling with worry. "Simon, what do you mean, she's off doing something crazy?"


	18. Chapter 18

Jace and Clary sat together, talking a little, but mostly just rejoicing in being together, for what felt like hours before Isabelle came and found them. She smiled as she leaned in the infirmary door; watching them together, after all that they had been through, was enough to make even the hardest of hearts warm and happy.

"Hey, the new trainer is here and she wants to meet Clary," She said after a few heartbeats of watching them just be together.

Jace raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. "She?"

Isabelle frowned. "Don't be sexist. Women can be good fighters too, you know."

Jace stood up. "I don't doubt it, growing up with you, it's just," He shook his head, a wry smile on his face.

Clary stood up and smiled, twining her fingers through Jace's and laying her head on his arm, a delighted smile on her face. "At least you don't have to be worried we'll start making out,"

"Like if I ever was." Jace replied, grinning down at her.

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. She didn't exactly follow the conversation, but from the way they were smiling at each other told her that they did, and that was all that really mattered.

"Come on, she's up in the training room." Isabelle unpeeled from the door and started walking towards the stairs, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that the lovebirds followed after her.

"So what's her name?" Jace asked. He only seemed to be mildly interested, Clary was serving to distract him and it wasn't as if he would be working with this new tutor much; shadowhunter training took place in their earlier years and once you moved past that to be a more accomplished fighter, you mostly just trained on your own.

"Aingealceol."

Clary blinked, clearly shocked. Jace looked at her.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, it just…sounds familiar. I think I met someone with that name once."

Isabelle looked at Clary. "I'm not surprised, they're an old family. You probably met one of them while we were in Idris and forgot."

Clary nodded numbly, and it was clear her mind was running in all sorts of directions. "How long were they looking through people for the job?"

"Since a little after Hodge left," Jace replied. "Why?"

Clary's brow was furrowed, but Isabelle had turned ahead again as they mounted the stairs, and was already continuing on, preventing Clary from answering. "Yeah. Loads of people applied, but we chose her because she's good with runes-I think she said she's some sort of specialist or something-so we figured that'd be helpful for you and your gift."

"Well, that's interesting," Jace said as they reached the room that had become familiar to Clary over the last few months.

A slender, pretty, middle aged woman, stood in the middle of the room, talking to Isabelle and Jace's mother. Her hair was a rich brown; it's shade varying somewhere between that of a soft tawny and a chocolaty brown She turned around as Mayrse caught sight of her children and excused herself from the room. Her violet blue eyes flashed with recognition as they landed landed on Clary. She smiled, crow's feet forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Clary." Her voice was a rich and warm, and almost motherly in the affection that was plain in it.

Clary scoffed, as if to say, 'aw, it's you', but she returned the good natured smile and slid into the woman's open arms. Clary pulled back and looked at her, with kindness that can only spring from years of familiarity. Isabelle and Jace looked at each other, confused.

"Do you know how she knows her?" Isabelle whispered.

Jace shook his head, looking confused and more than a lot at loss with what was happening.

"Where is he, Carlyn?" Clary asked as she pulled away, her voice full of a grim sort of determination neither of the Lightwoods had ever heard before.

Carlyn laughed. "Downstairs, waiting in the front hall for me to finish up. He's eager to get going. You know how impatient he can be and how he is about getting places on time."

She hadn't even finished her last sentence before Clary was out the door and straddled over the handrail of the stairs, sliding backwards down it, her faces struggling between looking somewhere between the ideas of elation and murder.

Isabelle looked at Carlyn in an appeal for clarification. "Where's she going?"

Carlyn laughed, it was a warm, musical, and comforting sound that filled the room. "Probably to go terrorize my son now that she knows he's kept this from her. There's not much they don't tell each other so I assumed one of them would have said something to the other by now. They always did enjoy breaking all of Jocelyn and I's rules. From the looks of things, they didn't though and now Clary's after her retribution."

Jace looked at her, startled. "Your know each other?"

Carlyn nodded. "Our families met by circumstance when they were kids and they formed a quick but steadfast friendship. I doubt few people know each other as well as those two do, and by fact of that, I know Clary very well."

Isabelle shook her head. "I just can't see Clary having any other friends besides Simon."

Carlyn glanced back over her shoulder and stopped; she had been walking towards the door. "You know Simon?" The amazement was evident in her voice, but then she shook her head in realization. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. He never would abandon Clary; he cares too much for her. How is he? I always liked him. A moderate amidst two radicals."

"Well," Jace said, looking at his sister, "He's a daylighter now."

Carlyn looked surprised. "You'll have to tell me how that happened, of all of them, he always seemed to be the least likely to get himself into that sort of trouble."

Isabelle was taken aback. "You know Simon too?"

"Of course. He's one of my son's best friends. The six of them were always such great friends."

"_Six_ of them?" Jace asked, rattled to his core by everything that had just happened in such a rapid procession during what he thought would be a quiet afternoon, but Carlyn was already walking toward the door.

"Yes. Now we better go make sure nothing too horrid happens. They do tend to get violent with each other when they're upset."

Isabelle looked at him, eyebrows raised. "What the Angel's name is she talking about? Tell me you agree when I say this is just getting weirder and weirder."

Jace shrugged, but he agreed with his sister. None of this made sense. He wasn't even sure anymore though what most surprised him about that answer; the fact that Clary was being described with the word 'violent' or that she knew other shadowhunters. Either way, he followed his new tutor down the stairs after the girlfriend he was just starting to realize he barely knew.


	19. Chapter 19

Will was standing in the front hall of the institute. He was waiting because he still had to drive his mother home. It was six forty-six. He was due to meet the rest of the Departed, including Celia, at seven. Will, as a general rule, hated being late. What he hated more was knowing he was going to be late and being able to do nothing to stop it.

_Parents. _Will thought to himself. _They always have to yammer. _

Suddenly he turned his head. Someone was running very quickly down the hall on a collision course with him. A very short someone with flaming red hair, screaming his name. They looked angry.

"Shit." Will said, just as Clary collided with him, knocking him to the ground. She punched his chest, but he was laughing too hard to care. "Hello, Lady." He stared up at her, a smile in his eyes and dancing across his face. He made no move to get up, his hands settling instead on her waist. She stared down at him, and her hair would have formed a curtain around them if it hadn't been pulled back in a ponytail. Her bright green eyes looked furious, but her tight lipped mouth looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

She punched him again and Will paused in the spasms that shook his chest. "You. Never. Said. You. Were. A. Shadowhunter."

"Does that make you angry, Lady?"

"Terribly."

And then then they both started laughing again, Clary propping up her arms on his chest and smiling like if all of her wished had just come true. Will didn't blame her, he felt exactly the same.

"OK, I'm not quite sure how I feel about you having your hands all over another guy. I'm not sure my angsty teenage self can handle that." Jace's voice floated over to them from the door of the hallway. Clary turned her head to look at him, moving her arms to brace herself on either side of Will's head and Will took the chance to use the now open space to sit up a little and lean back on his elbows. He raised his eyebrows and looked at Clary.

"Is this Mr. Fantastic? The one Simon called the Nuke of all Boyfriends?"

Clary giggled, but nodded.

Will looked back at Jace. "Well he's certainly not very impressive."

Jace looked outraged. "I've been told I'm very attractive."

Will shook his head. "I don't see it. Sure those people weren't exaggerating or that you weren't standing under certain lighting when they said it?"

"I've been known to make women and small animals swoon just by being nearby."

"Well that's just weird. Lady, please, do get off of me. It's terribly awkward."

"More like disturbing."

Clary sprung to her feet and Will fell back again with a solid thunk. Clary kicked him in the ribs.

"Ow. You shouldn't kick a man when he's down, Lady. It's just proper etiquette."

Clary kicked him again. "I'm a rude and unrefined burning ball of outraged euphoria. Don't tell me what I can and cannot do."

"With flaming hair to match. Now help me up." He held up his hand and Clary pulled him to his feet, grinning.

"You owe Jace twenty nine dollars."

Will scowled. "I thought it was twenty one."

"He called me more later."

Will tilted his head and studied at Jace, who, was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.

"What?" He sputtered.

Will looked back at Clary. "Call it twenty-four fifty and we have a deal."

"Done."

Will nodded. "OK then, Mr. Fantastic. You just made yourself some money for being obsessed with your girlfriend."

"I am not obsessed with Clary."

"You called her one hundred and twenty six times on September twenty-first and fifty-nine times in the afternoon of the thirtieth. And that's just when we were counting."

Jace looked slightly humiliated. "You knew I was calling you and you didn't pick up the phone?"

Clary apparently couldn't have cared less. She twirled a piece of hair that had come free of it bindings. "I was busy, and having fun."

Jace stared at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying, of how she was acting, and failed, for once, all he could do was watch her was he found himself to be without words, for once in his life.

"Now come on," Will said, tapping Clary's shoulder. "We're already going to be late and you know how Simon is where we doing appear on time."

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "And how's that?"

"All ruffled in the feathers like the mother hen he is."

Carlyn smiled. "So you two are going?"

Will and Clary looked at each other, and then looked at her, matching expressions of exasperation on their faces.

"Well, yeah." Will said.

"It's Tuesday," Clary said, like if it was the most obvious thing.

"It's Departed night."

Carlyn nodded. I suppose I should have realized that."

"It does happen on a regular basis," Will added thoughtfully.

"What are you talking about?" Jace said, looking back and forth between the three of them.

Clary shrugged. "The Departed. My friends. Will, Simon, me."

"Of course there were others." Will said.

"But they're gone now." Clary's voice sounded a little sadder, but Will smiled as if he knew something she didn't.

Carlyn smiled. "You kids have fun. I'm going to go talk to Mayrse for a bit longer. I'll catch a taxi home." She waved Will and Clary away with her hands. "Off you go."

Will and Clary turned to leave, but stopped when Jace called to them.

"Where are you two going?"

Clary and Will exchanged a look. It was the kind of look people who shared a close secret gave each other when an outsider was asking to be let in on the hype, and now the secret keepers were deciding if they wanted to spill their beans.

"To dinner with Wise Eyes," Will said.

"Wise Eyes?" Isabelle asked.

"Simon," Clary explained.

"And you're just going to leave us here?"

Clary and Will looked uncomfortable.

"It's kind of a Departed thing," Clary said, reluctant evident in her voice.

Will tilted his head and studied the Lightwoods again. The way he did it reminded Jace of either a small child whose curiosity had piqued or some predatory animal studying its prey, it was distinctly unnerving.

"I suppose they could come along, Lady. I'm sure Wise Eyes wouldn't mind." Will looked back at her, blue eyes large and unblinking, and Clary stared back, in much the same manner. Something passed between them and Clary's mouth twisted up in a humorless smile.

"Alright," she said, turning to look at them, "You can come with us."


	20. Chapter 20

Jace and Isabelle a followed Clary and Will out the doors and to Will's car.

"You have a car?" Isabelle asked, surprised.

"Why does everyone always sound so surprised? It's just a car."

Clary shrugged and slid into the front seat, the Lightwoods, after a quick glance at each other, climbed into the almost nonexistent back, and Will pulled onto the street.

"Oh, Lady," He added. "I have a surprise for you."

Clary looked at him warily. "I'm not sure I like this. Too many surprises in one day. That can be bad for one's health."

Will laughed. "It's a good surprise, trust me."

She studied him. "Fine."

Jace leaned forward and rested his arms on the two front seats. "I don't even know your name yet. We've barely met," He said, looking carefully at Will.

"Oh, I'm Will."

"Will?"

"Yep. I've known the Lady since we were about seven."

Jace looked at Clary. "And you never thought to mention him to me?"

Clary looked thoughtfully at Will. "I wanted to hold on to something that was normal, and that's what Will was."

Will grinned at her. "But we never have ever been just normal, have we, Lady?"

Clary laughed a happy, bubbly laugh. "I suppose so. Eyes on the road, William."

"All right, Lady, all right."

Will started humming and Clary flipped on the radio.

"_And in the daylight I don't pick up my phone_

_Because in the daylight anywhere feels like home"_

Will started singing along a little under his breath with much head bobbing and tapping on the steering wheel with his fingers. Clary watched with a tense sort of affection, Jace did the same, only with the same look a scientist might have while studying an incredible interesting new breed of insects.

He turned his gaze back to Clary and Clary hers to his in turn.

"Are you angry?" She asked.

He shrugged. She had never really seen him like this, and it took her a few minutes to realize that was exactly the feeling was. He was annoyed, not impatiently so, as she had on so many occasions, but really and truly sore, and perhaps more than a little upset. She put her hand on his arm.

"It's Will, stop being so grouchy. He's my best friend."

Jace's look softened, although only marginally and Will pulled into a space in front of the Valkyrie. He whistled as he stepped out.

"Say what you will about New York and city parking, but I never seem to have a problem."

Clary chuckled, following him to the doors to the restaurant and tugging her sweater tighter around herself; it was a short walk, but it was a chilly night. "That's because you're magic."

Will wiggled his fingers then pulled open one of the huge glass doors. "You've got me. I just can't hide these things from you, can I, Lady?"

"Nope, never." Clary walked through, closely followed by Jace and Isabelle, Will brought up the rear.

"Americe!" Clary said, giving the now familiar hostess a hug. "How are you? It feels like I haven't seen you in ages."

Jace's eyebrows went up, but he didn't say anything otherwise as he followed the two friends up some wooden stairs into a booth in the back. Simon was already there and he stood up, evidently bewildered to see the Lightwoods.

"Hello, Wise Eyes," Will said, scooting into his place on the inside of the booth. Isabelle sat down next to him and Simon squeezed into the remaining area.

"Hi…" Simon said, looking between the faces of the four new arrivals as he tried to make sense of the situation.

"William's a shadowhunter." Clary stated in means of explanation.

Simon's eyebrows skyrocketed, but then he looked at Will, and his shoulders sagged a little.

"Of course he is."

Will smiled and chuckled at Simon's reaction. Simon looked at Clary.

"My life's in ruins. No joke." He threw up his arms. "Next you'll be telling me that Americe is a faerie and Jonas is a werewolf."

"Actually, he's a warlock," Will said, "But you're right about Americe. Good guess, Wise Eyes."

Simon groaned and put his head on his arms,and Isabelle tentatively place her hand on his back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

America materialized, passing Will and Clary colas, then looking to the Lightwoods. "What do you kids want? These three are here often enough that I know without asking, but you two are new."

Isabelle glanced over her menu then made a fussing sound. "Just a lemonade please."

Jace looked at his menu and rambled off a few random things before turning back to the events at hand.

Americe looked at Simon. "What's down with him."

Will waved the issue away. "Our vampire is having trouble coming to conceive the idea of a greater world that the most unassuming people are part of. He'll be alright in a few minutes."

Americe looked at Simon and back at Will, completely without surprise, as if the two of them were just discussing midtown traffic. "Let me know if he wants some blood. Jonas keeps a few pints behind the bar." Then, without further comment, sashayed back down to the main level.

Simon lifted his head and blinked. "Someone could've said something about all that before, you know, would've saved me a lot of trouble."

Will shrugged. "I can't help you if you don't ask for it."

Simon shook his head. "I miss the old days."

"Who doesn't?" Will asked cheerfully. "Now, Isabelle. Tell me. Si here said you two broke up, but that is obviously not the case from how you are currently treating him. Care to elaborate on the topic?"

All Isabelle did was to pull her hand quickly off of Simon's back. Jace stared at Will.

"How do you know our names?"

"Because the Lady and Simon talk about you. Duh."

Jace's eyes flashed to Clary, who was quietly regarding the whole conversation without visible expression.

"You told him about us?"

"Well, yeah." Will said. "She can't just decide to ditch me all the time without a good alibi."

Jace looked at Will with an impatiently frustrated expression. "I wasn't talking to you."

"People like you rarely do. Not," Will said, "That I care. The Lady and I share questions meant for one another. It's a civic right of a best friend."

"Best friends don't have civic rights."

"Of course they do. There are somewhere around fifty of them. Number twenty-seven allows for the invasion of personal space despite protest and number five dictates that what's belongs to one friend belongs to the other. I swear it's all very legitimate. I don't lie."

"Well…" Simon said, his face that of someone arguing a technicality, "You don't lie to Clary," He amended.

Will looked at him and shook his head. "Darn you, Wise Eyes, I almost had him. My next step was to tell him that 'ithe mé leanaí' means 'the weather's nice', but yes, I never lie to the Lady."

"What does it mean?" Clary asked, genuinely curious.

"I eat children. Now, moving on, do you have any more good questions? Because so far they've all been shoddy."

Jace was saved from having to answer by the materialization of a pretty dark haired girl. Simon stood up with a smile.

"Celia!" He said.

She kissed him full on the mouth.

"Hello, Lover. Did you miss me?"


	21. Chapter 21

Clary slid out of the booth and Celia pulled away to greet her before Simon even had a chance to react.

"Clarissa, darling. It's been too long." Celia said, kissing Clary on both cheeks. She bobbed her head in terms of greeting to Will, one hand on Clary's shoulder, as if she still had more to say to the other girl. "Willim, always a pleasure."

Will smiled. "What? No kisses for me?"

Celia blew him a kiss with a smile and turned to slide into the booth, catching sight of Jace as she did so.

"Well hello there, Mister Gorgeous. How about you and I hit the town and go be attractive together?"

Jace's eyes darted to Clary. He was used to girls commenting on his looks, noticed them noticing all the time, but this was one of Clary's friends, someone he didn't know but she did. He had no idea how to react to the comment, or even more, how she would react to it. It was strange, how far out of his comfort zone he was tonight. Clary just laughed.

"Celia, this is my boyfriend, Jace."

Celia studied him for a moment. "Shame. Offer still stands, though." Before either girl could sit down, Celia grabbed Clary's arm tighter.

"Oh, Will didn't tell me, but from the looks of things, it seems you've finally joined the club?"

Clary nodded and Celia grinned. "Excellent."

Simon leaned around Isabelle and looked at Will. "What club?"

"Shadowhunters."

Simon glared at him. "I hate you all."

Will smiled wryly. "OK, Wise Eyes."

Celia pulled at Clary's hair and bit her lip, frowning. "Come with me for a moment. I need to fix you."

Clary blinked and looked down at herself. "_Fix _Me? But…"

Celia shook her head. "Don't talk, sweetheart, just follow."

Clary shot a scared look at the table's inhabitants as Celia towed her along. The moment they were out of sight, Isabelle punched Simon in the arm.

"What the heck was that?"

"Ow." Simon rubbed his arm. "It's not like I kissed her, she just…decided to kiss me. On the mouth. I had nothing to do with idea. In fact, until just now, I didn't know she was back." Simon looked accusingly at Will.

"Let him be," Will said. "There's no controlling what Celia does, most especially who she kisses and when. Simon didn't do anything wrong."

"Thanks, Will."

"No problem, Wise Eyes."

"While we're on the subject, may I just comment on how she _really_ does not need to be a shadowhunter?"

"Oh, yeah."

Jace looked between the boys. "What's so bad about that?"

Simon looked at him as if he was trying to bore a hole in Jace's skull. "What's so bad about that? Let me put it this way: if I had to give an award to the most self-destructive and reckless person I know, and it came down to you and her, I wouldn't even consider you. It's hers, all hers. You think Clary charges into situations without thinking about the outcome? Celia is so much worse. She sits down, carefully considers everything that could happen, and then does it anyway. She's crazy!" Simon was panting from his little rant; he looked around at the faces of his comrades.

Isabelle raised his eyebrows. "Wow."

Simon looked at her. "Yeah. If you don't believe me, ask Will."

"Oh, I believe you."

Simon looked over at Will. "What about Lars and Johnny Boy?"

Will shrugged. "I think Lars is, but Jonathan can still see everything."

"I was the only Mundie?"

"Technically, if I'm right, Johnny Boy is too."

"But I'm the only one without special powers."

"Well, yeah."

"Now I just feel shafted."

"Cool it, Wise Eyes. Now you're even more special than all of us."

Simon shook his head just as Americe came and plopped all of their food down in front of them.

"Where'd your Lady go, Will?"

Will smiled. "Just off with another of our friends to the bathroom."

Americe's eyes got bigger. "There are more of you? Great. This place is going to Hell in a hand basket. We'll be in ruins before the winter is out, mark my words."

Will laughed. "Never you worry. There more of us there are, the more we tend to keep in line."

America eyed Will. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe you." She turned her gaze to Simon. "You want anything from the stash, Sweets?"

Simon straightened up a little. "Mixed with hot chocolate, please."

Americe smiled and nodded, then glided off.

Jace looked around at them. "So how long have you been coming here?"

"Oh, since we were kids."

Simon nodded in agreement. "We started before we even had anyone else, back when it was still just you, me, and Clary."

Isabelle looked back and forth at the two boys she was sandwiched between. "So how did you guys meet, anyways?"

Simon and Will grinned at each other.

"It's a great story," Will said.

"Yeah, it involves a confused bird, a banana peel and a really fat old guy."

Jace looked at them. "So what is it?"

Simon laughed. "Not telling."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"

"Because," Will said, picking up some chips from the basket Americe had left with them. "It's such an awesome story, we've decided to make it confidential to only our closest groups of friends."

"So?"

"It's for Departed ears only," Simon clarified.

"Departed?" Jace asked, scrunching his brow.

"Our group of friends." Will said offhandedly, waving a chip as if to close the point. "Of which we have not yet decided you are part."

Jace felt a residual sense of betrayal. "You're kidding."

Simon looked squarely at him. "Nope."

Isabelle seemed to feel it too. "After all we've been through, you're basically saying that you don't trust us." She sounded hurt, and Simon looked to Will to help explain.

"It's not that we don't trust you…" he started.

"It's just that we barely know you." Will completed. "And we'd like to know you before we start spilling our secrets."

"But you do know us."

Will shrugged. "Clary and Simon know you, but not me and Celia. And to be fair, you guys have only just met the Departed, and this is only two thirds of us. We still have two more kids who haven't shown up yet, two kids that you don't know and that don't know you. Therefore, you cannot become 'one of us' until the Departed has completely assembled."

"What are you, a cult?"

Will considered. "Well, yeah. I guess you could call us that."

"We are and we aren't. It's not like we worship some great deity or something. It's just that we're sort of isolationist and exclusive."

"Very secretive too," Will added.

"You people are crazy."

Will grinned a crazy wicked grin. "Yes we are. Better get used to it now, Mister Fantastic, because it's not about to change for the better. In fact, if anything, it only gets worse from here out to those few who expect otherwise."

Jace felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. This blue eyed boy wasn't Sebastian, wasn't a demon, wasn't anything that screamed dangerous, but something about him made Jace feel very uneasy, as if he were just starting on his hardest ordeal yet.


	22. Chapter 22

Clary was sitting on the counter in the girls bathroom, Celia's face strangely close to her own as the other girl carefully applied eyeliner.

"So who was that girl sitting with Simon?" She asked, pulling back and studying her work. She nodded and screwed it shut, then went to grab something else from her Mary Poppins like bag.

Clary leaned back on her hands. "Isabelle. Jace's sister."

"She looked quite outraged when I kissed him."

Clary laughed a little. "I think they might be dating. I don't know. I haven't really been paying attention to him, I'm sorry to say."

Celia wiggled a tube of mascara in place of a finger at her. "Naughty. You of all people should know you can never take your eyes off the Lover."

Celia pulled out the brush. "Hold still. Now wasn't he also dating a girl named Maia? What happened to her?"

Clary obliged to Celia's command and did her best to talk without moving too much. "He was, and they both broke up with him, even though exclusivity was never claimed in either relationship. I guess Isabelle wanted him back."

"And the other girl?"

"Back with her ex, as far as I know."

Celia looked at her funny when she pulled away again. "Everyone is just hooking up with their exes again, aren't they?"

Clary shrugged. "I don't know. I guess so."

Celia leaned against the wall. "Well what about you and Will?"

Clary's eyes got big. "What?" She squeaked. That was Celia for you, always pointing out the corpse while everyone else ignored it. Most normal social courtesies just didn't apply to her, but, like the rest of the Departed, she had a crazy sense of honor and respect for the most unexpected people.

"You and Will. Don't tell me you never talk about…what happened between you because that would be lame, and stupid. It's like having a bomb in the room and pretending that it isn't there. Not talking equates eventual boom."

Clary sighed. "We ignore out bomb." She said, reluctantly.

Celia hit her on the arm. "Idiots. The both of you. I'm slapping him too, later. Does Jace know? Does anyone but you me and Will know that this bomb exists?"

Clary felt very small. "No."

Celia took a deep breath. "Whether that's good or bad remains to be seen. Moving on. Have you slept with this boy yet?"

Clary relaxed a little. Coming from Celia, this question wasn't unexpected. She had been totally blindsided by Isabelle's curiosity, the same inquiry was exactly the sort of thing Celia would normally ask; blatantly disregarding personal boundaries, normal-girl oriented, and just Celai-ish in personality.

Of all the Departed, Celia and Larla had always been the most akin in personality to "typical girls". Celia loved a good, stylish outfit, juicy gossip. The two of them worked endlessly to drag out the more girly part of Clary, which they claimed had been repressed in all her years alone with Will and Simon. This was, as far as Clary could tell, just that sort of thing.

Clary shrugged. "Define: 'slept with'."

Celia blinked at her. "You haven't slept with him, if you have to ask me that."

Clary laughed, and Celia joined in. They were the same old two best friends, doing really, the same old sort of thing.

Celia put her hand on Clary's arm. "I'm glad you aren't in the same sort of state you were in when I left. I'm glad you're happy, I'm glad my Lover is happy. I'm glad things are starting to be OK, with all of the Departed again. Clary, I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am; about all of it, but really. You need to sit down with your Shadow and figure out how things stand between you."

Clary sober up a little. "I know, it's just…everything feels so _right_ right now, you know? I don't want to screw it up yet."

Celia smiled a little. "All right, all right. Let's get back to the boys."

"And Isabelle."

"And Isabelle."

"You know, Ceals," Clary said, pushing open the bathroom door and walking back towards the restaurant's center floor. "I think you'll really like her. You guys are a lot alike."

Celia looked back at her, disbelief and plastered on her face. "Really?"

Clary nodded. "Yeah. You're both tough girls who love to have lovers."

Celia laughed. "Actually, I hate having a boyfriend. Weighs me down, but I know what you mean." She looked thoughtful. "I'll wait and see. She seems cool enough, but, I want to listen to her first. Time to put on the good old Cielisereni grand interrogation."

Clary laughed and put her elbow on Celia's shoulder. Celia was a bit closer to being averaged sized, but she was still short. Celia slid her arm around Clary's waist and they walked up the stairs, chattering a little and laughing. When they got to the table Jace did a double take.

Celia hadn't done much, but what she had done was enough. Jace always thought Clary looked beautiful, for him, it was a fact of nature, but now she looked incredible. The girls smirked a little at their friends expressions.

Celia jerked her head. "Move it or lose it, Blondie. That's Clary's spot."

Will smiled a little at Celia's sudden take-charge of the situation and the way Jace scrambled to get out of their way. Celia cut an intimidating figure on a daily basis. She could be downright terrifying when she really wanted to be, though.

Clary slid into the booth and Jace went to follow, but Celia shook her head. "I don't think so, Blondie." She glided into position next to Clary and Jace meekly sat down on the end.

Simon watched with humor in his expression. "I'd say welcome to Departed tree house, but it's a no-outsiders allowed sort of thing."

Jace scowled at him. "Don't talk down to me, Lewis."

Simon laughed, to his ears, it actually sounded kinda evil. "As far as I'm concerned, this is the poit of time at which I get back at you and your 'no-mundanes allowed tree house'." He leaned forward. "History had long been defined by an 'us' and 'them', welcome to the 'them', Jace. Welcome to the 'them'."

At the end of the table, Will laughed. "Screw with Wise Eyes, and one day you'll get burned. You screwed with him, and now you're getting burned. Hope you have a pail handy, because he's just lit his torches, and they're blazing with the fierce fire of repression."


	23. Chapter 23

Clary rolled over with a groan. She was, without question of a doubt, utterly and completely exhausted. She had left the Valkyrie the night before with the rest of the Departed, off to have an adventure on the town, promising Jace she'd call him in the morning so that they could sit down and talk over breakfast. They had wandered around for a bit, not really causing trouble, but not really doing their best to avoid it either. Around one they had gone back to Will's to make pancakes. At the time, it had seemed like an excellent idea, but now, in the pale light of the morning that came filtered through Will's window, she couldn't quite remember what it had been. That's how it was with the Departed though, you got so hyped up on what was going on that by the time the hype had worn off, it all just became blurs where all you really remembered was being beyond happy.

Her phone buzzed angrily at her from where it lay, a few inches above and beside her head. Her hand went questing for it for a minute or so; she wasn't willing, in her tired state, to turn her head and find it faster. Her fingers closed around its smooth surface and she looked at it, it was her mother, two hundred and seven calls, and almost twice as many texts. It was a little past ten o'clock; Jocelyn must have been calling her since at least six. It made sense, she would have expected Clary to be home last night, and when Clary hadn't showed, she may have assumed that Clary had bunked with Simon, but she would have wanted verification.

Reluctantly, Clary hit the flashing answer button and held the phone to her ear, pulling it back a second later when her mother's furious voice came down the line.

"Clarissa! Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you for hours!"

Clary sat up, rubbing her eyes and suppressing a yawn. "Relax," she said, glancing around at the familiar blue walls, the night-sky ceiling. Celia lay a few feet away and Simon was on the bed, on his stomach, his hand draped over a stuffed animal in the shape of a goldfish, a small puddle of drool lying at the base of a waterfall of saliva that slid down his chin. "I'm with Simon." Better to tell a part truth than a total lie. "You don't need to worry, I'm fine."

Clary could practically here Jocelyn calm down at the mention of Simon. She had an infallible trust in Simon when it came to looking after Clary. He was becoming a valuable asset for how Clary could explain her extended absences to Jocelyn without making mention of Will. Creative truth telling. It wasn't the same as a lie, but it sat just as poorly in Clary's stomach.

"When are you coming home?" Her mother asked, the worry noticeably decreased from her voice.

Clary pulled herself up and stretched. "I was planning on going to breakfast with Jace this morning. Maybe after."

Her mother's voice tightened again. "I want you home by noon."

Clary sighed and picked up her shoes from where they were by the door. "Alright. I'll see you then, I promise."

"OK. I love you, Sweetie."

"I know, mom. Love you too, bye."

Clary hung up and padded out into the hallway, dialing Jace's number as she moved slowly down the back stairs and into the kitchen. Will was staring into the fridge, searching for an answer to his morning hunger, his black hair sticking out in the peculiar angles of bed-head, but he turned around and smiled when he heard her. Clary waved, phone at her ear as she listened to it ring at the end of the line and waited for Jace to pick up.

"Hello?" He asked. Clary sat down at the table, Will joined her, a blank expression on his face.

"Hi. Do you want to get breakfast?"

"You still want to?"

"Yeah."

"Clary, it's almost eleven."

"OK, brunch then."

Jace sighed. "I don't know…"

"Are you still grumpy?"

"No." Clary smiled at the defensive sound in his voice. She wasn't sure why, but it gave her a strange sort of elation.

"Then why don't you want to meet? I, for one, want to see you, and we have plenty to talk about."

"Alrght. Do you want to meet at Taki's?"

"Sounds good." Clary untied her sneakers and started pulling one of them on.

"OK. See you there."

Clary hung up and looked at Will.

"Do you want a quick snack?" He asked, a mischievous smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Clary threw her other shoe at him. He ducked out of the way and she missed, but bent to pick it up off the floor and set it on the table in front of her.

"Actually," She said, tying her first shoe and reaching for the second, "I feel like I'm about to barf. Pancakes at one o'clock were probably not the best idea."

Will scoffed. "I disagree. It was only your decision to carbonate the milk we made them with that was a bad idea."

Clary stopped and looked at him. "I did that?"

Will nodded, laughter barely hid behind a smile. Clary shrugged. Sad as it was, she could actually see herself doing it.

"That and your idea to put every non-pancake compatible food item you could find in your pantry in them."

Will looked at her funny. "I would never do that."

You did," Clary said, a wry smile on her face. "Celia and I have a photo of you eating a pancake with a Dorito, a Pringle, and a dill pickle potato chip in it."

Will looked thoughtful. "That would explain the funny taste in my mouth."

Clary laughed and started putting on her other shoe. "Will you give me a ride?"

Will made a face. "Not sure if that's the best idea, Lady. I don't think Mister Fantastic really enjoys the idea of me being near you."

Clary looked at him woefully. "Will you at least try to make an effort to get along with him? You're my best friend and he's my boyfriend. You're my boys; you have to be united on the fight to keep me out of trouble."

Will chuckled. "For you, Lady, anything. I promise I'll do my best. The rest is up to him. Now," He said. "It might not be the brightest idea for me to drive you to see him, but I can drive you to the nearest subway station, good?"

Clary nodded and stood up. "What about Simon and Celia?"

Will pushed the question aside with his slender fingers. "My mom treats them like they're her kids. It won't matter if we're around or not."

Clary nodded again and followed him out the door. "Can you promise me something else?"

Will nodded and unlocked the door. "What?"

Clary smiled as she opened up the passenger side door and swung into the car; one hand on the top of the door frame, then slammed the door shut. "Don't encourage Simon in his revenge. I'm not saying hold him off, there's no use in doing that, but really, Celia will be enough of a cheerleader. He doesn't need your encouragement as well."

Will chuckled. "Fine, although I wish I could. We started discussing tactics last night."

Clary looked at him miserably as he pulled the car out of the drive and onto the road. "This is going to be horrible. Jace will never know what hit him."

"Which will make it all the more amusing," Will replied with a delighted grin.

She groaned and Will's infectious laughter filled the car as they drove off towards the city.


	24. Chapter 24

Jace stretched as he walked down the hallway towards the music room. He had gone to brunch with Clary this morning, and he had watched her talk about her friends her..._Departed_, like if they were some God-given gift. Not that he didn't want her to be happy, which she obviously was when she was with these other kids. It just felt like he was looking at a stranger now. She had babbled and talked about them, telling him about things he had done before he had ever known her. For Jace, the whole group of them was a reminder that Clary had had a life before she had ever encountered him, and that one day she might abandon him for it.

He thought back to the diner they had gone to last night. The pretty black haired boy that looked a little like Alec, but not really. How Clary had watched him when he talked with a strange delight in her eyes that he had never seen in them before, how Simon had, in the most stunning turn of events, actually scared Jace last night with what he said and how he acted, how different Clary had seemed after she came back with Celia.

Celia. If he wasn't dating Clary, Celia was just the kind of girl he would go for; bright and alive and bursting with a deadly vital energy. He thought about the way she had looked at him last night, like if she could see everything about him with a glance and it all amused her. The way she held herself alone showed how confident she was in how she looked and what kind of person she was. She was a bit like Isabelle, although, if what Simon said was true, much more dangerous.

He pulled open the door to the music room, yawning. Mrs. Aingealceol was a good teacher, and he felt like he had worked harder than he ever had with Hodge. HE was excited to see what she could teach him. When he opened his eyes though, he stood still, trying to keep the sneer he felt coming off his face, for, standing in the corner by the window, was the newest trouble to Jace's life. Deep black hair and closed blue eyes, and playing what looked a violin.

He stopped when he heard the door open and his eyes fluttered opening. A flush lit his cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think that anyone would come in here."

Jace glared at him. "I come in here." He stalked over to the piano and lifted its cover with a bit more force than he needed. He aborted just before it could snap open to hard and damage the instrument.

Will blinked. "Yes, I suppose I should have expected that. Clary said you're a pianist."

Jace turned around, faster than he wanted; he didn't want to look like he cared. Will looked strangely calm.

"She told you about me."

Will blinked. "She talks about you all the time. Gets kinda annoying, actually. You should see some of the expressions Simon gives me."

Jace was shocked, although he wasn't sure why. Why wouldn't Clary talk about him? They were dating, weren't they?

Will placed his violin back under his chin and played a few arpeggios while watching Jace at the piano with a critical eye.

Jace nodded his head at Will. "Is that a violin."

Will scowled. "Viola. There's a difference. Violins are stuck up, tiny, and annoying. Violas are bigger and have a prettier, and a deeper, more modest tone."

"Are we compensating for something?" Jace prided himself on the fact he was able to keep his face straight and his voice deadpan as he commented.

To his surprise, Will laughed. "No. My reasons for choosing the viola are different."

Jace leaned back. "Like what?"

Will dropped his instrument and shook his head. "Personal story." Then, to Jace's shock, sat down on the bench next to him. "So how long have you been playing?" Will asked, nodding in turn at the piano and plucking a sweet melody across the strings.

Jace suppressed his incredulity at Will's actions. "Since I was a kid."

Will tilted his head and looked at him. "You any good?"

Jace scoffed. "Of course I am."

Will smiled. "Can you play Brahms sonatas?"

Jace blinked. "What?"

Will made a sound in the back of his throat and in a smooth gesture stood up and raised his viola to playing position. He played a smooth melody, a few quick notes, then brought his instrument down. He was good, from the few notes Jace had heard him play, that much was obvious.

"The music is almost annoyingly easy, but there's going to be a solo competition with my youth orchestra and I need an accompanist."

"Can't you just hire someone?"

Will frowned. "No."

"Why?"

Will looked at Jace like if the answer was obvious. "Because I wouldn't know them…"

"And that bothers you."

"Well, yeah." Will sighed. "Look, I promised the Lady that I would do my best to get along with you, which I can only do if you're agreeable."

"Clary _asked_ you to make friends with me?"

Will nodded. "It means a lot to her, and if you're going to date her, well, you're not about to be rid of me."

Jace's shoulders slumped. Clary had talked to him about trying to get along with Will. He got the feeling she had known that the two of them wouldn't get along very easily from the start. He bit his lip and stared past Will and out the window. Well, she had asked him, and it wasn't like he could say no, not to Clary. Never to Clary.

"Alright." He said, sighing and turning back to the keyboard. Behind him, Will grinned. "I'll think about it."

"Thanks." Came the other boy's reply. Jace heard Will played the start of another melody; it sounded alien, like nothing that had ever been written before, but it reminded Jace of a rising sun that set sparkles on the waves of a clear blue ocean. It filled him with a strange warmth and a beautiful sense of hope.

He turned around a looked at the other boy, lost in the music he was creating, certain that Will knew exactly what pictures he was painting in Jace's mind, certain that Will had done it with every intention. He really was a great violist, although Jace admitted the fact to himself grudgingly. Will's music created pictures like if Clary might draw a picture. Clear and perfect once it was imprinted on your brain, it nagged at your memory for a very long time.


	25. Chapter 25

Will eyes blinked open and he stared at the night sky spread across the ceiling, placed there by Clary's careful hands. It was beautiful, painted so perfectly, it was almost like a photograph. A piece of his favorite time set for him to see whenever he liked. He turned his head to look at the clock on his nightstand. One forty three, the number said, staring unblinkingly back at him. He reached over and flicked on the light, illuminating a small rubber ducky Clary had brought for him while they were in Jersey and a picture of his Lady herself, wearing a knit woolen cap and a jean jacket, grinning up at the camera, a notepad on her lap. She looked so happy. The picture had been taken when she was thirteen, still so young, still so innocent.

He sat propped up on his elbows, yawning. He never had slept well, even as a child. He would go to bed, only to wake up a few hours later. He usually started playing his violas then, soft pretty melodies that triumphed his champion night, that spoke of the gentle wonders only he saw, that painted sparkling diamonds on the empty black canvas that stretched above New York.

He slid out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cold wood floor. The seasons were changing, soon it would be winter, his favorite season, and everything would be cloaked in a flawless white sugar coating, easing the sharper, harsher, uglier parts of the world. It would all be a glimmering white cake, and taste just as sweet. There would be clear winter nights with the moon reflecting miles off the shore of the sound, and although it would be cold, freezing almost, he wouldn't feel the cold, or notice the sharp prick of the frost. Much like Will had never been too keen on sleep, he had never really noticed sub-zero temperatures either.

He glanced at his violas, sitting like some exhibit of modern art on his wall. He pulled down Iolar, his more modern wooden one. It had a magnetic strip in his fingerboard that relayed what he played to an amp, but it worked just as well without one, and slid it into a case, which he then slipped onto his back like a backpack. He grabbed his stereo, which would double as his am. He pulled his jacket down from the wall and his keys from the nightstand, and then jogged down the corridor and down the stair, through the door and to his car.

He drove out to the point of Great Kills Park, past the marina, parked his car, walked down the path, and onto the beach. He loved playing out in the open, letting his music drift across the water. He often wondered if anyone ever heard it and if they in turn wondered who was playing. He was shy about his music, generally speaking, especially among shadowhunters and strangers both of whom were quick to judge and even quicker to proclaim that such dreams as he held would never make any difference, and that it was worthless; all of it worthless. Very rarely did Will overcome this and play for crowds. True, he was part of the New York Youth Symphony, and he played with them, but once a year, he took to the subways and performed on the streets. The money he earned, he gave away.

Will's faith was an interesting thing. He liked cathedrals. It didn't matter what form of Christianity they conformed to, he just liked being in them. They held a certain musical beauty in them that was special and touched him in his heart just as much as the most perfect viola solo could. He would spend hours in them when he just needed to be alone and sit still for a moment, to enjoy the quiet forms of life. True, here in the city, they didn't have the same soaring brilliance as those he had seen while he had been in England, but they were still nice, and they were still cathedrals. When Will finished his tour of the New York City public areas, he took the money he earned and placed it at the bottom of the donations stand of whatever cathedral he had been currently frequenting, then moved on.

He tapped on his amp, staring out at the black water, separate only from the night's dark face by the fact that the waves lent it a texture that was always changing. Like Will, the ocean never seemed to be able to hold still, always moving, turning itself over, and reflecting the face of whatever brilliant light shone down on it. He lifted his viola to his chin, in a dramatic sweeping gesture, akin to the description of one of Clary's rounded lines. His iPod was plugged in and The Hush Sound started playing, one of his favorites. He had gone to see them while he had lived in Chicago and had fallen in love with their music. He played along, gliding his bow over the strings in accordance to the melody. He adored this song, and it was deeply appropriate. His eyes fluttered shut and it was just him and the music.

"_Darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel it alone?"_ He arm swung and played, the music carrying him away, farther and farther away.

"_You don't you see what you poses, a beauty calm and clear." _He turned around and around, his mind was sailing across the smooth surface of a glassy mirror, filled with the bright pinpricks of stars.

"_You will see your beauty every moment that you rise."_ Wills eyes shifted open, and he looked, once again, out over the ebony water that danced and swayed to the music he produced. He lowered his viola, panting then sank to the ground, knees bent up before him. He lowered the instrument to the ground with his left hand and picked up a handful of sand with the other, letting the tiny grains run through his fingers. He stared at the ocean with blank unseeing eyes, the music had stopped, but it played on in his head; there was always music playing up there. His mind slid away from him, flying off to some distant shore, but leaving him there on the beach.

He stayed there until the pink cheeked dawn reached her tangerine fingers across the horizon in a stretch that lit the world as she woke, and then Will, mechanically and stiffly, copied her movements and went home.


	26. Chapter 26

Celia cracked open the door to the brownstone her family now owned and shut it carefully behind her. It was early, only eight o'clock, and she hadn't been home all night. She dropped her keys in the bowl on the side table then carefully removed her heels. Best not to wake anyone. Shoe in one hand, she jogged up the stairs to her room, creeping along the hallway, carefully listening to see if anyone else was awake. She came to her door and slowly started easing it open, tongue pressed against the back of her teeth in concentration.

"Good morning, Celia." Ky's voice slid softly across the hallway from somewhere behind her. She turned around, trying to suppress any expression that might prove her guilt. As it was, her eyes were wide with shock at being discovered.

"Ky." She said, startled.

He smiled wanly. He was leaning across the railing of the stairs, hair awry and deep circles under his tired gray eyes. He looked awful, wearing fraying black sweatpants and an old green t-shirt advertising St. Xavier's widely unpopular math team. He held a knife loosely in one hand and Celia deducted that he had been up in the spare room they used as a family training space, practicing in the watery light of the dawn and waiting for her to come home.

He moved without sound down the steps and stood in front of her, only about a foot away, and staring down at her.

"Where were you Ceals?" The worry, as well as the hurt, was evident in his voice. Celia felt a sick roiling in her stomach. What had Ky ever done but take care of her, and now here she was, blatantly ignoring that care, and wandering off. Even she felt the hints of betrayal.

She firmly pushed the thoughts aside. Ky, if he ever got the chance, would make a great parent someday, no child would ever want to let him down. Really, it was only the idea that he was _not_ her father and that he therefore didn't have any true power over her actions that allowed Celia to go about as she did. Sad, but true.

She leaned in, glaring. "You can't tell me what to do, Kyros." She hissed.

He looked at her as if she had slapped him, but then his face went hard. "That's uncalled for."

She pushed her door the rest of the way open, and Ky followed her in. Her bedroom really hadn't changed much from LA to here, there was same that distinctive shade of red with the speckles of the spectrum from white to black. Her stuff still littered the floor, and books were absolutely everywhere.

Ky looked around. "Celia, you can't keep doing this." His whispered voice was low and urgent, and very harsh. Celia rarely ought with her brother, but his temper had been short as of late and hers as well. Disagreement had been waiting on the horizon like a deadly charcoal smudge of a thunderstorm.

She whipped around. "And why not? Who are you to tell me how I do and don't spend my life? It's mine to live and ruin and no one else's!" She struggled to keep her voice down and not wake her slumbering parents. As she spoke though, her arms waved wildly, she got passionate about her arguments, and at times, it felt that the only emotions she could contain were the most extreme.

Ky gasped, looking wide eyed at her arms, where a bad burn was planted on the inside if her arm like a kiss. He rushed forward, pulling his sister's slim hand towards him and pushing up her sleeve to look for more hurts. "Celia," He said, his voice quiet and tender. "What happened?" His eyes, large with distress turned up to meet her own and her shoulders sagged. "What happened?"

She pulled away. "Nothing. I met a demon on the way home. I took care of it."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

She dropped her head. "Because I didn't want you to be angry."

"Oh, Celia," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a tight bear hug. "I could never be truly angry with you."

"You've just had so much on your mind…"She started, looking up at him.

He kissed her forehead. "I will always have time for you. Now sit down and let me look at that."

Celia plopped down on the bed as Ky ran careful fingers up her arms, checked under her chin.

"They're demon burns, you won't be able to do much, even with a stele, and I already gave myself an Iratze."

Ky finished his check and touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips. "I'm your big brother. Sometimes, I just need to see these things for myself in order to believe them."

She smiled. "Do you have any coffee, then? Because it's early, and I need a kick-start."

Ky laughed. He always had coffee, needed it first thing in the morning before he could ever be of any use. "Of course," He said, offering her his hand. She took it and pulled herself up, then followed him out the door. She bumped him with her shoulder

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you OK?"

He stopped and looked at her. He studied her face for a few moments before he at last sighed. "I don't think that I'm going to be alright for a while, Ceals."

"Is it really that hard?" She asked, looking at him. Celia had never really loved someone as much as Ky had, then had to face the kind of messy end that he did. She wanted desperately to understand, but knew, deep down, that she never really would.

He didn't say anything, but the answer was written just as plainly on his face. Celia felt tears in the back of her throat. Ky was just so beautifully innocent, it was difficult to see him so shattered like this. She took his hand, swinging it a bit. "Come on, we both need something in our stomachs right now, and if it's the big brother's job to look after the little sister," She straightened up, "then the little sister must take the time to, on occasion, look after the big brother."

He smiled, but there wasn't and joy or happiness at her humor in it, and allowed himself to be led down the hall by Celia; the caretaker being taken care of by his charge.


	27. Chapter 27

Clary always liked coming to the Institute. It seemed like a nice place just to sit and think, and an even better place to sit and draw. Isabelle met her in the cloister, looking perfectly put together as always, but for once, Clary didn't mind. Something about having the Departed backing up her every move had put more confidence in her stride.

Isabelle smiled. "Here to see Jace?" Isabelle asked, and Clary nodded.

The two girls walked over to the elevator together, and waited for it to arrive with the usual screeching halt.

"How have you been?" Clary asked, as they stood in the mirrored cubical in silence. The silence had felt strangely awkward, as if there was a pressing sort of weight sitting between them.

Izzy shrugged. "Oh, alright. I guess. It feels weird with Dad being home, you know? But what about you? You must be elated that your friends can be a bigger part of your life now."

Clary laughed. "You have no idea. I thought it would be weird, thinking of Will and Ceals as one of us, but, it doesn't. It feels…right. It would be weird if they weren't. We're Departed, together or not at all."

Isabelle was looking at her funny. "You really like being with them, don't you?"

Clary felt suddenly uncomfortable. "It's like you, Jace and Alec. I have myself and my Departed. We've always been together. We always will be."

Isabelle didn't have time to comment any further because with a jolt the elevator came to a stop and the door opened. Clary and Isabelle stepped out.

Isabelle sighed. "Just don't forget about the rest of us, alright?"

Clary nodded and started to walk away before, after having a sudden thought, turned around. "Izzy?"

Isabelle looked up; her head had been bowed in thought.

"Simon and Celia? That was never a thing…just…no. They think of each other more like siblings."

Isabelle glared. "Then why did she kiss him like that and why didn't he object."

"Because it's Celia, and while we all might be used to her doing that sort of thing, I guess we forget that to other people, it's weird. Really though, Simon loves you. You two should go do something fun."

Isabelle smiled. "OK. Now shoo. I think Jace is in the music room."

Clary smiled and resumed walking through the Institute's halls. She was quietly elated that Jace would be playing. She always enjoyed listening to it, even if she wasn't able to play any musical instrument herself, or at least, not very well. As she was approached though, she was surprised to hear not only a piano, but the careful movement of a bow across strings as well. But that could only be…

She stood in the room for a moment, taking in the curious sight in front of her. Jace sat at the piano, reading from a messy stack of music that had been haphazardly set in front of him, and Will by the window, fingers dancing and bow sliding with all the grace of a swan across the strings. Whatever it was they were playing, it was very beautiful, and Clary instantly calmed down; Will's music had a way of doing that to her. She watched them until they finished, and Will's eyes shifted open and he took her in with surprise.

"Clary," he said, a little abashed. She knew that she was one of the few people Will was truly comfortable playing around, but that didn't stop his amazement at finding her nearby unexpectedly.

"That was very nice," She said, smiling. "What was it?"

Will looked down. "Mendelssohn's Viola Sonata in C minor, movement one."

She moved to sit down next to Jace, but her attention was barely on him, she was single mindedly focused on Will. "You didn't tell me you were playing together."

Will looked up, a small smile on his lips. "You didn't ask."

Clary laughed a little. "What about that other piece you were working on? The unaccompanied solo?"

Will blushed furiously. "_Lady_."

"Come now, Will. I'm not about to judge you, and from the looks of things, neither is Jace."

Will hesitated.

"Please Will? For me? I thought it was incredible the last time you played."

Slowly, Will raised his viola up to his chin, from the sound of his breathing, he was very nervous. He blinked a few times before closing his eyes; he preferred to be separated, from the world around him when he played, only the sound of the music he played on the instrument he clung to so desperately attaching him to the world. He lifted up his bow and played a long, sweeping note, then set into the music.

Clary tentatively leaned her head on Jace's shoulder, and he slowly reached around to place his arm around her. It was strange, how careful they were with each other now that he had Heaven's fire running through his veins. It was strange and different that things had been between them before. It was sweeter, a gentler sort of love that Clary had never really thought of before. It was nice, to take your time.

Will stopped playing, staring out the window, panting a little. Amazing, how playing could be for him what drawing was for her. It took more from you, emotionally and physically than anyone else outside the craft realized. You had to be really passionate about something to feel the high that came off of it, and the exhausting plummet that came after. He bent down to start packing up his viola, and looked over at Clary and Jace. He smiled a little.

"Are you two going out, or do you plan on staying in?"

Jace stood up smoothly. "It all depends on what Clary wants." He gazed down at her, and for the first time since she had entered the room, she actually took the time to look at him.

"Dinner is always nice," she said.

Will slid his case over his shoulders like if it was a long, skinny backpack. He chuckled. "Really, Lady. Food is an essential part of living, you can't keep forgetting it."

She threw him a glance. "So is sleep."

He shrugged. "I thought we determined thatI was already past saving." He looked at Jace. "Feed her. Before she starts falling over from starvation."

Jace laughed. Will waved as he walked out and Jace, to Clary's surprise, waved back. He turned back to her, holding out his hand. "Ready to go?"

She took his hand and stood up, smiling a little at him. "Since when did you two become friends."

Jace shrugged. "Last time we talked about it, you made it sound like it was important to you so…"

"I'm glad you two are getting along. I don't know how I would have managed if you didn't."

Jace shrugged. "He still really, really annoys me, don't get me wrong, but he's alright I guess."

Clary laughed. "That's what Simon said the first time they met, and now look at them."

"Yeah, don't get too excited. I haven't totally decided yet, but as a musician, I respect his talent."

Clary shook her head. "He's not a bad guy, you'll see."

Jace shrugged again, he obviously wanted to get out of this part of the conversation. "Taki's good?"

She squeezed his hand. "Just fine."


	28. Chapter 28

Magnus walked into his loft apartment and looked around. Talking to Alec today had been hard, one of the hardest things he had ever done. He closed his eyes. At least after today, he wouldn't have to face the heartache. At least now he and Tessa could get out while they still could; nothing was holding them back anymore. Walking towards his room, he pulled out his cell and started typing in her number. He glanced up and sighed. Alec's stuff still was placed in the corners of the room, where he had left it.

"Alexander," he hissed. So Alec had forgotten to come by. Maybe Magnus shouldn't have told him that he still loved him. It might have given the boy the wrong idea. He sat down on the floor, leaned against the foot of the bed, and closed his eyes. Maybe Alec would show up later. Magnus had hoped that he wouldn't have to face him again, but sometimes unpleasantness couldn't avoided. Chairman Meow came over and Magnus absentmindedly scratched behind his cat's ears. In the end, it was always just him and the cat.

The next day came and went. Magnus tried not to move. He had resolved himself to stop moving so he could focus all his energies on healing and not thinking about Alexander, who, coincidentally, still hadn't shown up. Magnus really hoped he wasn't sulking or refusing to come out of spite. That was just rude.

By the end of the third day, Magnus was stiff. Alec had generally seemed to be the kind of person who would come through and do something in the end when he was asked, or could clearly see that there was no alternative solution, no matter how unpleasant that problem might be. He opened one eye and then the other. Chairman Meow was asleep in his lap. The orange light of the setting sun was bleeding through the window but, besides that bit of light, the room was filled with dark, murky shadows. Stiffly, Magnus stood up and stretched. He padded barefoot over towards the kitchen, dialing in Alec's number as he pulled open the door of the refrigerator to see if there was any food. There was nothing there but weeks old leftovers, which he dumped into the trash. On the phone, he was sent to voicemail. He shook his head.

"Pick up the phone, Alexander." He redialed and sat down on the couch, turning on the TV with a flick of his fingers. The Chairman regarded him from the hallway door. Magnus glared at the cat, which he swore was looking at him as if to ask where the missing boyfriend was.

"I'm sorry I just can't be as awesome as he was." Magnus muttered sarcastically in reply then cringed. Now he was talking to the cat, and besides, it wasn't like what happened was the its fault.

The Chairman blinked at him for a moment before turning to walk away. Voicemail again. Magnus redialed and redialed, but that was all he ever got. Annoyed, he punched in Isabelle's number. If anyone would know where her brother was, it would be her.

"Magnus!" Isabelle exclaimed, way to perkily, considering what had happened.

Magnus wanted to keep the frustration out of his voice, but knew he was failing. "Isabelle, why hasn't your brother come by to pick up his stuff yet? I told him to do it days ago!"

Isabelle sounded confused. "What do you mean, 'pick up his stuff'? Did something happen? Isn't he with you?"

Magnus was exasperated. "Isabelle, we broke up, why would he be with me?" Magnus was suddenly restless, something felt wrong, but he couldn't place his finger on what…

On the other end of the line, Isabelle was silent. "Magnus," She said quietly, "Alec hasn't been home in days. We all just assumed that he was with you."

Magnus felt his heart turn to ice as he stopped his pacing. "What do you mean 'he hasn't been home'? Isabelle, where else would he be?"

Isabelle sounded very, very afraid, and very, very small. "I- I don't know. Magnus, when did you last see him?"

Magnus closed his eyes and started counting back mentally. "Two- no three days ago. He was…" Magnus trailed off as the realization of what could have happened hit him like a sucker punch to the stomach.

"What, Magnus? He was what?"

Magnus' eye dashed, unseeing, around the apartment, for what, he didn't know. "The only reason he wouldn't be home." He said, his voice matching the tone found in Isabelle's. "Camille." He hissed. "Oh, I'm going to kill her."

"Magnus stop, just calm down. Where was he? Jace and I will go after them and I'll get mom to assemble the conclave."

Magnus sank down against a wall. "The City Hall subway station. He was going to the city hall subway station."

Isabelle hung up, but Magnus was barely paying attention, the numbness had spread throughout his limbs and down to his bones and all he could do was sit and let his unseeing eyes dart around the landscape of the room in a search for answers that couldn't be found.

[][][]

Isabelle stared at her phone briefly for a few moments before straitening up to go find Jace. On her way to the music room, she met Will, whistling a little and wearing a gray sweatshirt with Julliard written across the front. His viola was slung across his back.

"Hello, Izzy." He said, cheerily, when he saw her, but something in her expression must have given away that something was off because he paused and looked at her a moment, looking worried. "Is something wrong?"

Isabelle blinked at him; she had been so focused on getting Jace that she hadn't really been paying attention to him. "Alec- he's missing. Magnus said something about Camillie and the City Hall subway stop…"

She trailed off as Will's expression hardened. "I'll call Celia and Ky, they leave near there and can start looking right away. You go get your family together to call the conclave."

Isabelle was momentarily taken aback by Will's swift take-charge of the situation, but started to go do as he asked.

Down the hallway, Clary and Jace were holding hands on their way out, talking a little. Jace looked up at the sound of her coming and his lips parted as he too, read that there was something wrong on her face.

"Alec," she said. "Something's wrong. He's missing."

Jace dropped Clary's hand and grabbed Isabelle's shoulder instead. "Then why aren't you going after him?"

Isabelle waved her free hand at Will, who could be seen at the end of the corridor. "Will says that Celia and Ky live nearby and can start looking for him. He sent me to call the conclave."

Clary smiled wanly. "That's Will for you, and he's right, Ky and Celia are nearby. If something's wrong…" She trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

Isabelle pulled away from Jace's touch; she had started to smolder a little. "Ouch. Now come on. We need to find mom and start doing something about this."


	29. Chapter 29

Alec knew nothing outside of his pain. It was beyond imagination. Maureen had jumped at him and he had done his best to fight back, to run, but she had overcome him. He didn't know what it was about new vampires that made them so powerful, so undefeatable. She had caught him on the platform, then dragged him back upstairs, and fed on his blood. Camille had taken his blood once, he remembered. It had hurt while at the same time being pleasant. This had been an agonizing torture. Maureen had taken a lot of his blood, but not so much that he wouldn't survive. He lay on the floor, blood soaking his clothes and hair, unable to move he was so weak, drifting in and out of consciousness. He didn't know how long it had been since he had seen Magnus. An hour? A day? A week? Surely someone would notice his absence eventually. Surely someone would come…

[][][]

Celia was flicking knives at various pictures of demons she had placed at different heights and areas of seclusion around the room. She was playing a game. Different demons were worth different points, but she couldn't hit the high point demons all at once, she had to wait. Then there were the ones that Ky called and those were worth extra…

It was very complicated, almost unnecessarily so, but Celia didn't mind. It all made sense to her and that was all that really mattered. Ky was slumped by the wall, reading from a beaten up collection of Shakespeare's plays that she had gotten him when he was her age. He was flipping through, just finding monologues that he might to for his next audition and watching Celia with a little smile.

Over by the door, buried in the sweatshirt and socks that Celia had discarded as she warmed up, her phone buzzed. Ky stopped reading and went to go pick it up.

Thwack. A knife landed in squarely in the face of an eidolon demon poised on one of the blades of the ceiling fan. Forty points.

"Hello, Will." Ky's pleasant voice floated over to her and she turned around.

"Let me talk to Willim!"

Ky shook his head and held up a finger, his face turning grave. He put the phone to his chest. "Get in your gear. Will needs us to go find a Lightwood that might have been attacked a few days ago in the City Hall subway station."

Celia's blood curdled. She like Isabelle and Jace and hoped that nothing had happened to them. Mutely, she jogged downstairs to her room to grab her gear and pull it on, picking up weapons out of the clutter as she did so.

Ky appeared at her door, soundlessly, mostly marked, but still holding out a stele for her to finish the job. It was amazing how quickly her brother could prepare himself for battle. She took it and they runed each other as they walked quickly out down the stairs and out the door, Ky explained what had happened as they went, and Celia swallowed. It didn't look good.

"Do you think we're looking for a person or a body?" She asked, eyes wide with fear as they walked briskly towards City Hall Park in the chill of the coming winter.

Ky did nothing but to tighten his jacket and walk a little faster.

[][][]

"Hello, my pretty." Maureen's voice flittered down to Alec. She had left a little while earlier to do Angel knew what and Alec had been holding out the hope that she would forget about him and not come back. Apparently, he wasn't so lucky.

He couldn't respond beyond a groan and a flutter of his lashes, he was so weak. Why did she want him? Why did she keep him? At first, Alec had longed for a stele and an Iratze, now he just longed for a death that would end this misery sooner rather than late. He wished he could laugh at the irony of it, but laughing hurt too much now, took too much effort. First he had worried about dying before Magnus, then Magnus almost died before him, and now he was going to die when it wouldn't even matter.

Alec missed Magnus and the only reason he had stopped trying to fight was because the pain of what Maureen was doing to him almost covered up the pain of what Magnus did to him. Maureen helped him forget. He liked her for that. Maybe she would help him forget so much all he wouldn't have to remember at all, just drift calmly, blissfully, shadows of dark that wrapped him up so often.

He felt her cold vampire hands brush aside his hair. Magnus had done that once, many times, but his hands had been warm, and Alec had always felt the underlying warmth of magic.

_Just bite me, already,_ Alec thought. _Stop with the formalities and let in the hurt._

She clucked. "You don't look so pretty, my pretty." She laughed at her little joke. "Don't worry though, pretty. I won't need you much longer. I'm getting stronger already. Look."

She squeezed Alec's arm on one of the many places where she'd been biting him, and he gasped in pain. He wanted to scream, to scream and yell and shout until his voice went hoarse, but he no longer had the strength or the will to do so.

She loosed her grip and brushed his cheek with her hand. He could feel the blood on it, his blood. "Then that meanie Raphael won't be able to say no to me anymore. Then I can kill him." She laughed. "That'll be nice. I can paint the walls with his blood. It's a pretty red."

She was crazy, Alec knew this. It made sense. He had done a report once on how vampires who were changed when they were younger were often more dangerous because they didn't have the same sense of restraint an adult might show. Maureen was dangerous; she was planning on killing the New York vampire clan for rightly refusing to let her in, but Alec didn't care. All he wanted was for her to decide what to do with him so he could lose himself to unconsciousness or get lost in pain. Just son long as she chose quickly, Alec would be happy.

Maureen stopped her soft-spoken speech for a moment. Alec sensed, rather than saw, her look up, towards the door. Faintly, he heard voices, or was it just a voice? Perhaps it was Magnus? A pang went through his heart, and Alec quickly shut the thought down. Magnus had walked out on him. Magnus was never coming back. It was probably just wistful thinking. Alec's body slumped in the vampire girl's arms, and she set him down, although not very gently. A dull ache rattled through Alec's body.

He heard her stand up and move slowly towards the door. He could practically picture her; head tilted a little to the side as she stepped, uncaring, through the pools of blood that covered the floor.

"I'll be back in just a moment, my pretty. Don't worry. Just a moment, that's all."

If Alec could have, he would've sighed. Black, a shade not much different in coloring, but rather in temperament, over took him. He slid back into the dark sleep of unconsciousness.


	30. Chapter 30

Ky dropped down onto the platform and looked around. It wasn't much, just a few discolored tiles, scraps of garbage, and scuffed up dust. Behind him, he heard Celia hit the ground like a cat and straighten up.

"Ky," She said, an edge to her voice, "Look. Blood."

Ky turned around and there it was, streaks of the stuff, and footprints, as if someone had gone bathing in it and walked out without washing off their feet. It covered the walls, too, like some macabre child had colored there with bright red paint. It was disturbing, to say the least. Ky lifted his eyes, and before his eyes appeared a staircase and a doorway in the wall. Obviously, it had once been glamored, but that glamor had been neglected. In the shadows of the doorway, standing a few steps up, was the slim figure of a girl. Ky walked slowly toward her, wary.

"Come here. Let me get a look at you." He said, speaking like one might talk to a frightened animal.

A twinkling laugh that reminded Ky of Tinkerbelle echoed around the platform as the girl came forward into their sight.

She was wearing a t-shirt with a unicorn on it, and a long, red scarf. She was obviously the child who had painted here for her hands and arms were covered in blood. It was smeared on her face and stained her T-shirt. With a sickening lurch, Ky realized that the scarf hadn't originally been the crimson it was now, but had been stained by countless messy feedings. Blood spattered her pants as well, soaking through at her knees, as if she'd been kneeling in the stuff.

Celia made a small sound of disgust, and Ky narrowed his eyes, partially in annoyance with his sister, partially in agreement with her.

The girl laughed again. "You're shadowhunters. Like Alec. Like my pretty. But he won't be around much longer, oh no." Her eyes got very wide. Ky half-expected her pupils to be dilated like the cartoons of crazy people he had so often seen as a child. "He's getting weaker and I'm getting stronger. He's going to die soon. So kind. So kind to give his life for me." She laughed again and shivers ran up and down Ky's spine.

"Why don't you let me see him, alright?" Ky asked, edging a little closer. "What's your name?"

She grinned, showing her needle-like incisors. "I'm Maureen. I'm Simon's Maureen. And I can't let you see him." She pouted. "Then you'd take him away. You'd take my pretty away from me."

Ky stopped. "_Simon_? Simon _Lewis_?" He asked, skeptism filling his voice.

Maureen nodded. "But that doesn't matter. I killed Camille. I'm going to be the head of the vampire clan now. I'm going to kill Raphael Santiago."

Ky's blood felt icy in his veins. "Why?" He whispered.

Maureen titled her head like if she was some possessed doll. "Because I want to. Why else does anyone do anything, silly?"

Ky swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry, but before he had any time to react further, Celia had flung a knife at Maureen.

"You _madcap_!" Celia exclaimed.

Maureen dodged the knife and hissed at Celia. Celia flung herself at the slender girl, throwing the two of the off the platform and onto the tracks. Ky looked over the edge at his sister; she seemed to be doing alright on her own, so Ky rushed up the steps into the dark interior of the room above.

[][][]

Mayrse stood at the desk in the library, stunned. Carlyn, a little off to her side, was caught in a similar state. Before the two mothers stood Jace, Isabelle, Will, and Clary.

"Alec is _what_?" She asked, incredulous.

Isabelle made a noise of impatience. "Missing, last seen by Magnus about to visit Camille at the City Hall subway stop. Ky and Celia are already there, but they need our help _right now_."

The two women stared blankly at the teenagers for a few mheartbeats longer, disbelief dominating their face and stupefaction halting their movements.

"Right now, as in this instant," Isabelle repeated.

Carlyn drew herself up. She looked at Mayrse, "Call the conclave. I'll take these four to go back up the Cielisereni children ahead of you; from the sounds of things, they'll need it, and we don't have time to wait."

Mayrse nodded. She was coming to respect her co-worker's opinion greatly and already counted her as a trusted friend. Quickly, she picked up the red phone and started dialing the conclave's number.

"Have any of you been there, or to the park?" Mayrse asked, phone held to her ear as she waited for the call to connect. Isabelle and Jace shook their heads, but Clary and Will looked almost sheepish.

Carlyn sighed. "These two have, plenty of times when they were younger. Clary, draw us a portal so we can go help. Everyone else, pull on some gear, quickly. And grab some for Clary too."

Clary ran to the wall to do as she'd been asked, everyone else rushing to follow their own respective orders as well.

[][][]

Alec was dreaming of Magnus. In the dream, he was standing in the foyer of Magnus' apartment building, Magnus was leaning over the railing of the landing a floor up.

"Alexander," He said, exasperated. "Where do you think you're going?"

Alec looked at the door. Something about it those writhing black shadows didn't look right, but Alec just wasn't in the mindset to determine what.

Alec turned back to Magnus, confused by the question. "Out, obviously."

Magnus frowned. "But you can't go just yet, Alec. I still need you."

Alec walked towards Magnus a little. "But you left me," Alec said, gesturing out with his arm, pointing out what Magnus was so blatantly ignoring.

Magnus sighed. "But that doesn't mean I want you to leave so soon."

It was Alec's turn to frown. "That's hardly fair, Magnus. You can't just abandon me and say you want me back. That's just…no." He shook his head.

Magnus closed his eyes. He looked tired. Alec's forehead creased. He should be in bed; he should be resting from the wound he had gotten in the battle with Sebastian. Not out here arguing.

"I was losing you. You broke my heart, Alexander. You didn't trust me. But that doesn't mean I want you to _go_ go."

Alec scoffed. "I wanted to trust you, you just never opened up, and I had to lie there and wonder. I told you everything about myself and what did you tell me? Nothing! Did you really just expect me to accept that?"

Magnus looked at him, eyes full of sorrow. "I suppose I did."

Alec shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, Magnus. Love is a two-way street. I give a little, you give a little."

Magnus leaned forward urgently. "If I said that I'd give us another try, would you promise me that you wouldn't go? Would you stay for me Alec? I still need you. I need you to be strong for me."

Alec shook his head, already walking backwards towards the shadowy door, his eyes glued on Magnus' terrified face. "I'm sorry, Magnus. But you were right. We just can't work."

Alec turned to face the door. He took a deep breath, preparing himself, for some reason; he didn't know what, for what lay on the other side.

Behind him, Magnus screamed. "Alexander!" He sounded like if Alec was about to throw himself off a cliff, but Alec was beyond listening, it was best to get out of here while he still could.


	31. Chapter 31

Ky looked around the dim room, raising up his witchlight to see. Puddles of dark red liquid covered the floor, turning a deep maroon or dirty brown in some places. It was all over the floor, most especially on a divan that was placed in the center of the room. The body of a dead vampire, eons old, judging from its shriveled state, lay close to his feet, but that wasn't what interested him. On the floor next to the divan was a body, still young, and covered in runes, its torn blue peacoat smeared and soaked with scarlet. Pulse hammering in his throat, Ky slowly moved forward, doing his best to ignore the worst of the thick fluid on the floor.

[][][]

Clary dropped onto the platform, Will on her heels, just moments after Jace and Isabelle. Carlyn jumped down as well, and looked around. They all turned their heads as one as the heard a shout from below them, coming from the tracks. Together, Clary and Will ran and leaped down. They knew that voice, would recognize it anywhere. It was Celia, the only person it could be. Heedless of the ruts and tracks snaking across, unseen, on the ground, Clary sprinted towards the tunnel and noise that had come from it, Will moving panther-like next to her, a witchlight stone held high in his hands, Carlyn and the Lightwoods a little behind.

[][][]

Celia slammed into the wall, Maureen's skinny arms using an unprecedented force to hold her there. How old had she been when she'd been turned? Twelve? Thirteen? Fourteen? She was so tiny. No one would ever expect her to be the atrocious monster she was. Celia thought back to what she and Clary had been like at that age. They too, perhaps, had been a little bit violent, often unexpectedly so, but they had never taken things this far, would never dream of it. With a shout, Celia brought her knees up and pushed her boots into the newly turned Vampire girl's stomach, using all her force to propel Maureen away and herself up. She swung her body up, kicked off the ceiling with one leg, and landed in a crouch behind where Maureen should have been. She straightened up and looked around though, confused.

She wasn't there.

Then that laugh sounded, that crazy, hair raising laugh that sounded like church bells with a disturbing ring to them, as if they were just a little bit off tune. Painstakingly slowly, Celia turned her head. Maureen stood a little farther along the line, draped in shadows.

"Did you really think you could beat me?" She giggled, raising her blood stained hand to her mouth. "Oh, silly shadowhunter, silly Nephilim. You can't beat me. I'm too strong for you, I killed Camille! I'm the head of the Vampire clan!"

Celia drew a final knife out of her belt with a single, violent motion. This girl was making her mad, and anger was already twisting her face in a sneer. "I don't care who you are or what you did. I can kill you. I _will _kill you."

Maureen laughed and spun around a little. "Is that what you've been trying to do? Kill me?" She stopped and looked at Celia with a suddenly serious expression. "You're not doing a very good job, are you?"

Celia roared, flinging the knife with all her strength, putting as much momentum and force behind the throw as she could. She felt it leave her hand, watched it go sailing, end over end, through the air. It would strike home; hit the stick of a girl right in the throat, just where Celia had aimed.

Maureen dodged, gracefully and with all the ease of a dancer preforming an often practiced move, out of the way. She looked at Celia, her head tilting strangely towards Celia, like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been let loose, eyes wide, and a slight, eerie smile on her face. "I do believe that was your last knife. How are you going to kill me now?"

Celia resisted the urge to stop her foot like a child. Her knives never missed. She had spent hours training she was a kid to send them hurtling through the air like she had just done, like she had done so many times before. That throw had been perfect, and she never, ever missed. It bothered her that some stupid little newly turned…_fledgling…_had evaded her.

Maureen suddenly looked up, lips parted in bewilderment. Celia knew it was against everything she had been trained to do, but she turned around to see what had shocked Maureen.

A glimmer of white, like a star pulled down from the night sky and placed in someone's clutching grasp. The light lit up a determined face framed by black hair, and a glint of red fire next to him. Will and Clary, come to the rescue, just like always.

She turned around to face Maureen, to laugh at the other girl for assuming she had won the fight in her own favor so quickly then stopped. The slender blond haired girl was no longer cut out from the shadows of the tunnel beyond. She was gone, vanished like the dust from which she had come.

[][][]

Clary and Will reached Celia, panting.

"Where'd she go?" Clary asked, glancing around.

Celia gestured down the tunnel. "Who knows. Away from here, little coward. She should have faced me."

Will looked over at her. "Celia, you're unarmed."

Celia crossed her arms. "Shut up, Willim. I knew you were coming. I would've been able to hold her off."

Will raised his eyebrows. "How?"

"I have teeth too, don't I? And besides, I've been trained to fight."

Will chuckled as Jace and Isabelle ran up, Carlyn right behind them.

"Well?" Jace asked. "She's not here. Nor is Alec."

Will raised his witchlight and started walking farther down the tunnel. "I don't know about Alec, but as for our Vampire? She's in the Beyond."

[][][]

Ky knelt down next to the black haired boy. There were streaks of blood on his face, fresh ones, and he was bleeding from just about everywhere. Despite himself, Ky reached out and touched the boy's cheek, his neck, looking for a pulse, a breath. He was very handsome, that much was undeniable, even in his current state. Ky closed his eyes, trying to remember what Will had said the boy's name was. Alec. Alec Lightwood.

Ky pulled out his stele. "Alec," he said, "Come on. Wake up. I've got you." As gently as he could, Ky placed an Iratze on his throat, looking around for more places where he might need one. Alec groaned.

"Magnus?" He asked.

"Sorry." Ky said, "No. But I am here to help." He turned around, facing back towards the doorway. "Celia! I found him!"


	32. Chapter 32

Ky leaned against the wall outside the infirmary. After he had called, Jace, Alec's _parabatai_, had come running, pushing Ky aside and looking over his brother with a kindness and efficiency only know between those who had such bonds. Ky had stepped back; he knew that he was no longer needed. He had met Celia outside, who had explained that Carlyn and the rest of the conclave had gone after Maureen, who had run away though the tunnels. Will and Clary had then helped them portal back to the institute, at which point they had sent an urgent call to the Silent Brothers, who, upon their arrival, had whisked Alec away, only allowing Jace to stay at his side. To be honest, Ky didn't know why he was still around.

"He's going to be alright, by the way." Ky looked up. He hadn't heard Isabelle approach.

He scrambled for something to say for a moment before settling on "That's good." Mentally, he kicked himself, but Isabelle didn't seem to notice anything wrong with the remark, she just nodded.

"Thank you, for finding him. I don't know what we would have done…" She trailed off, and Ky smiled.

"It was my pleasure to be able to help you. Any friend of the Departed is my friend, and it would seem that is what you are."

Isabelle's face twisted a little. "You're Departed?"

Ky laughed. "No, but my sister, Celia, is. I've been keeping an eye on the six of them since they were kids. I suppose it's sad, but they're all I really have in terms of friends."

Isabelle looked taken aback for a moment by his response, but then relaxed a little. "I can see it now, the family resemblance between you and Celia. You two look a lot alike."

Ky nodded. "Thanks." He said. "You and Alec, too."

Isabelle just looked at him like if he was a strange animal.

Ky was suddenly embarrassed, although he didn't know why. He was saved from having to comment further by Celia's appearance.

"You can go home, Ky. I'm going to go out with Will and Clary," She turned to Isabelle. "You too, if you want. I know how it can be, waiting like this, you want to stay, but at the same time you really need to get out, yeah?"

Ky chuckled. "No room for me, Ceals?"

Celia threw him a glance, mocking annoyance. "Ew. Why would we want you?" She said, the joking tone clear in her fake accent.

Isabelle looked hesitantly at him. "Are you sure, Celia?"

Ky waved his hand, gesturing that it was alright. "It's fine. I don't want to hang out with your weird friends anyways."

Celia stuck out her tongue at him and he replied in turn. He laughed and rubbed the top of her head with his hand, messing up her hair. "I'm going to head over to CAT anyways."

Isabelle looked confused.

"My theater group," Ky explained.

Celia slid an arm around her brother. "Ky loves acting. If he wasn't a shadowhunter, he'd act his pants off. He'd go to Hollywood. Everywhere he went, people wouldn't be able to not love him, because he'd just be that awesome."

Ky disentangled himself from Celia's grasp. "But I don't have that option, so I pursue my love for drama in a youth company. We're doing an original work soon, and tryouts are today." He kissed Celia's forehead and looked at Isabelle. "I'm glad your brother is going to be OK."

He walked away, waving, and Celia waved back, then turned to Isabelle. "He's not a bad guy, my brother. Not really. He's just had a rough couple of months."

Isabelle scrunched his brows as means of a question, looking at Celia to explain more, but Celia never did. Will and Clary walked up, joking, as always, and Celia turned to them with a smile.

"Well, well, well, Willim."

Will grinned. "Glitter, what are you 'well-ing' me about?"

Celia shrugged. "Wells can be used in terms of greeting."

Will smiled a little more and laughed. "Alright." He turned to Isabelle. "Are you coming with or not?"

Isabelle looked at Clary. She had never seen the other girl look so confident, more in her element. Clary radiated an air of control over the situation, and Isabelle suddenly realized that it wasn't without good reason that Will referred to her as the Lady. She felt happy for no reason, all of a sudden, standing here with these close friends who were obviously bubbling over with their love for one another, a happiness they, Isabelle suspected, would never be able to contain. It was as if just being around each other made them all more alive, and Isabelle was just starting to tap into that feeling. It was weird, but whereas before she had been weary of the Departed, the exclusivity it showed and the way it drew a side of Clary neither she nor Jace had ever seen before, she now felt different. They were friends, they were young, and they just wanted to live as only teenagers could live and they all helped each other to do that, and suddenly, Isabelle wanted in on it. She smiled.

"Sure, so long as you invite Simon."

Celia laughed. "We always invite the Lover, he's the Lover, inviting him would remove all the love, and we can't remove the love, without the love there isn't anything worth living for at all."

Will looked at Celia funny. "That train of thought digressed quickly."

Celia frowned at him as they made their way towards the elevator. "Why would you say that? It's like saying that trains of thought have to make sense or go somewhere reasonable. Why can't my train of thought take me from loving my Lover the idea of Love as an actual entity that must exist to prevent Hate?"

Isabelle could practically see the doodly question marks coming out of Clary's head as they stepped on to the elevator. Clary was listening with a bemused expression, not unlike one Isabelle had often seen Jace wear, but obviously had no idea where the conversation was going.

Isabelle leaned over to her. "Is it always like this?"

Clary grinned, lightning quick and razor sharp. "Usually, yeah. There are a lot of rants that only one of us understands, and a lot of arguments based on those rants that have no meaning whatsoever. It makes for funny conversation though."

Isabelle nodded, doing her best to understand. "Why does she call him the Lover?"

Clary chuckled. "That's another story, a really long one, and we'd have to have a movie marathon to explain it well."

Isabelle looked at Clary like if she was crazy. "What?"

Clary shook her head. "Don't worry about it. It's just another nickname. You'll figure out the jokes eventually."

Isabelle pulled away and followed the threesome off the elevator and out the doors. They were strange, quirky didn't even begin to cover their dynamic, but at the same time, Isabelle was very aware of the fact that her entire life, her only real friends had ever been Jace and Alec. The whole concept of the Departed, of being part of them, was thrilling. With a smile, she slid into the back seat of Will's car next to Celia. This was going to be a whole new adventure.


	33. Chapter 33

Isabelle cracked open the door of the infirmary and peered her head around the corner. It was about ten o'clock; she'd spent the remainder of the day with the Departed, leaving Jace to stay with Alec. Carefully she stepped in. It looked like her brothers were both sleeping, but Jace stirred as he heard he and sat up. He rubbed his eyes.

"Where've you been, Iz?"

She sat down at the foot of Alec's bad. He looked so pale, he had almost died, and it showed. "With the Departed. We went to get ice cream." She handed Jace a dilly bar. "Clary recommended that I get you some. She sends her love."

Jace took the package and unwrapped his treat with a sad gaze. "That would explain everyone's sudden disappearance."

"Sorry we left without saying anything. We didn't want to bother you."

Jace nodded. "It's alright, I guess. It's just…hard to get used to the idea of Clary…"

"Having a life and friends outside of Simon and us?" Isabelle finished for him.

Jace didn't reply, just looked at her, and Isabelle knew that she was right. It had been hard for her to grasp to, that Clary and Simon weren't just…theirs, they belonged, first and foremost, to and with people who felt like complete strangers. Spending time with them today, watching Simon laugh with Will, she had started to realize that she was only scratching the surface of what it meant to really know the Departed, or even Simon and Clary alone. It's like they had spent all this time being subdued versions of themselves and were only just letting their colors truly show.

"They're not bad people, you know."

Jace looked up at her, eyebrows raised, a question for clarification and elaboration painted neatly on his face.

"Will. Celia. The Departed. They're a good bunch of people." Isabelle smiled. "And they're _funny_."

Jace looked at her as if she was the funny one. "I thought we didn't like them."

Isabelle shrugged. "You may not, but I do. I don't know how to describe it. Just being with them is fun. Celia is a lot of fun. I like that girl. She had style."

Jace scrunched his brow. "Who?"

"The one that thought you were attractive."

"Izzy, everyone thinks I'm attractive. I can't help it, I'm gorgeous."

Isabelle laughed. "The dark haired one who kissed Simon."

Jace looked surprised. "I thought you were going to go after her with a vengeance previously unknown to the inhabitants of this planet for that."

"Why? She's not interested in Simon and Simon isn't interested in her. There's nothing to worry about."

Jace blinked. "Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"

Isabelle glared at him. "Your dilly bar is melting."

"Ah! Not my ice cream!" He rushed to lick the melted ice cream off his fingers then took a bite.

Isabelle watched. "You're strange."

Jace attacked the dilly bar with another ferocious bite. "Not as strange as you are."

Isabelle scoffed. "Celia was telling me about her brother, Ky."

"Again, who?"

"The guy who found Alec. He seems pretty cool. He likes to act. Cellia's writing a play for his theater company."

"OK. So?"

"I'm just saying he sounds like an interesting guy."

Jace studied her. "Leaving Simon so soon? He'll be devastated."

Isabelle looked around for something she could throw at him, but came up empty handed, so she settled on just scowling at him. "No, I just thought-"

Alec groaned, and Jace dropped down to his _parabatai_'_s _side.

"Alec?" He asked, brushing his brother's hair away from his face.

"I feel awful," came the reply.

Jace laughed. "You were attacked by a Vampire and almost bled to death, and you only feel awful?"

"Actually I feel-"

He was cut off by the entrance of Mayrse. She frowned at her daughter. "Isabelle. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Isabelle stared at her mother without moving. Mayrse sighed. "Has he woken yet?"

Jace looked up. "He just did. Why?" His eyes darted across her face, reading something there in tightness around her eyes and the tension in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Brother Zachariah glided in.

_The Brothers only wanted to speak with him about his time with Maureen so that we could further understand what she is planning and be more able to act accordingly. But if he had only just awoken, I think perhaps we will withhold our conversation so that he can heal further._

Jace looked at the Brother. "Thank you. An actually," he looked back at Alec. "I think he just fell back asleep."

Brother Zachariah nodded. _That is good. He shall need his rest if he is to become better._ He turned back to Mayrse. _I will consider further the issues we addressed in the Library. Now if you don't mind, I think will depart for the night._

The Lightwoods watched as the Brother glided across the floor and out the door.

"I think I'll be off as well," Mayrse said. She kissed her children on each of their forehead before following after Brother Zachariah. Isabelle looked down at Jace, who hadn't even bothered moving back onto the other bed to sit. He leaned his back against the metal frame and stared at Alec.

"Do you think he's going to be alright, Iz, I mean, really alright?" He asked; his voice, for once, very small.

Isabelle looked at him. He looked, for once in his life, very, very defeated. Isabelle remembered the only other time when she'd seen him like this; after Alec had been attacked by the greater demon Abbadon and Alec had almost died. Isabelle didn't say anything; she knew Jace didn't actually expect her to.

On the bedside table, Alec's phone buzzed angrily, and the Lightwood children looked up, startled by the disruption. Slowly, Jace grabbed it and stared at the number before answering.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Has anyone found Alexander yet?" Magnus' voice bubble out from the end of the line.

Jace glanced at his brother. "Yes. No help to you. I thought you cared about him enough to come and find him when it seemed apparent that he might be _dead or dying_."

Isabelle looked up, astonished at the anger in Jace's voice.

Jace continued. "And if you knew that Camille was dangerous, and that Alec was going to see her, then why did you let him go there on his own?"

Magnus was evidently shocked, Jace's face was hard. "Leave my brother alone." He brought the phone down from his ear and snapped it shut, pulse pounding in his throat. Isabelle dropped to the floor and sat down next to him. It was the only way she knew how to be near him and comfort him now.


	34. Chapter 34

Jace sat down in the booth next to Clary. He didn't really want to be here, but Izzy had come to him insisting that he leave Alec's side, if only for a little while, for the sake of all their sanities'. Clary had been training upstairs. He had barely seen her in the past few days except for a few moments when she dropped by to say hello and to check on Alec. He loved her for that. But it was a Tuesday, and she had asked if he wanted to come along. He had thought about what Izzy said, about the Departed being good people, and he had given it a chance because he loved Clary and he didn't think he could love her without getting along with her friends too.

That didn't mean he wouldn't rather be with Alec, though. He had barely left his brother's side while he had been healing. Brothers Zachariah and Enoch had come in yesterday to question him about Maureen, and Alec had answered to the best of his abilities before going back to sleep, worn out by the entire ordeal. Later, the two of them had talked, really talked, like they hadn't done in a long time. Jace talked about Clary and the Departed and Alec talked about his breakup with Magnus. It had been good, to talk to someone he knew would always understand him. Jace was glad he had Alec for that because he was becoming increasingly more aware of the weakening grip he had on Clary and how easy it would be to lose her.

Celia slid in next to him. She and Will were having an intense debate. About what, Jace wasn't sure. Jace started playing with Clary's hair, studying her, taking her in. She looked happy, he had to say, as if is where she wanted to spend the rest of her days.

"—DUCKS!" Celia shouted from beside him. He looked up.

"What about ducks?"

Will leaned back. "Only that they're some of the most amazing creatures to ever have walked this planer."

Celia shook her head. "I beg to differ. Ducks are lame."

Will looked at her. "I'm going to pretend you did not just dis ducks."

Celia leaned it. "Too bad, Willim, cause I did."

Will looked murderous.

"I hate ducks." Jace said.

Will turned his gaze on Jace. "You hate ducks? You know what? I hate you. Ducks are some of the coolest animals to walk this planet. Don't dis ducks. Ducks will be running this place one day."

Jace folded his arms and leaned back. He hadn't planned on having this much fun, he had to admit though, now that he was here, he was glad he came. "Now that's just stupid."

Will pointed at him. "Ducks. Rule. Lady, back me up on this." He turned to her, appealing, a faint smile dancing on his face.

Clary laughed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Will, but I can't. Too personal for me. Besides, we all know that the coolest animal alive is the mouse."

Will blinked at her. "You're kidding me."

"Actually," Simon said, looking up lazily from his conversation with Isabelle. "Goldfish that can breathe on land are the best, but that's just my opinion."

Will shook his head. "You're delusional, Wise Eyes."

Celia crossed her arms in defiance. "Futterbies. Flutterbies are amazing."

Jace looked at her. "What the hell is a flutterby?"

Celia looked indignant and was about to embark on a lecture, Jace could see it on her face, but she was stopped by the appearance of two people at the end of the table, who the Departed all turned to, stared at for a moment, then dropped their mouths wide with shock.

The boy was tall and muscular, perhaps Sebastian's height and easily taller than both Will and Jace. He had strawberry blond hair and well-tanned skin. An easy going smile was plastered on his face that lit up his warm brown eyes and melted them to the same color as chocolate. He laughed. "Still arguing over ducks, Will? I thought by now you'd be over that."

Will found his speech again and grinned. "Say what you will about ducks, but they're better than pigs."

The boy stared at Will for a few heartbeats. "Pigs are some of the most intelligent beings on this planet. Pigs will always come out on top." He turned to the girl who was beside him. "What do you think, Darling?"

She smiled. "I've always been on the side chicks. And rabbits. And animals that are just adorable in general."

Will leaned in as the boy pulled up a chair and sat down, the girl perched easily on his blap. Clary was slowly starting to smile, Celia and Simon too.

"And that, Larla," Will said. "Is why I've always held the opinion that you are not cut throat enough to be Departed." He gestured at the table in front of him as if to point out some basic fact that was written on its surface. "You like cute animals and refuse to choose one animal to fight and die for."

Larla stared at him. "Will, you like ducks. Ducks of all things. Any normal boy would choose a lion, or a panther, or some other ferocious animal, and you chose a _duck_."

"Ducks," Jace said, turning to her, "Are blood thirsty little devils that should never be trusted. I hate ducks, with a passion. If I didn't have to hunt demons, I'd start hunting ducks, they're that bad."

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Getting a little into the subject, aren't we now?" He held out his hand. "I'm Jonathan, by the way, and this is Larla. And it would seem," He finished, glancing back and forth between Jace and Isabelle, "That you have replaced our positions as members of the Departed. Will, Clary, what this madness?"

Clary chuckled.

"Replace you?" Will asked, barely containing laughter of his own. "Johnny Boy, I am offended that you would think such things. Lady, please explain to Johnny Boy here what is going on."

"Jonathan, Lars, this is Jace, my boyfriend, and this is his sister, Isabelle, who's Simon's girlfriend."

Larla looked, wide eyed, at Simon. "She's you girlfriend? God, Simon, what are you doing? Paying her or something? No way could you ever land a girl like her."

Jonathan looked around a curtain of Larla's platinum blonde hair. "I gotta say, Si. She does look a little out of your league."

Simon frowned. "What? Am I not allowed to have an attractive girlfriend?"

Jonathan blinked. "No. You're not. This is wrong. Very, very wrong."

"Thanks, Johnny."

"Yep. No problem."

Isabelle looked on with confused eyes. "Who the heck are you people and why are you criticizing my relationship?"

Jonathan, again, referred to Will. "Will, 'splain."

"These two," Will said, nodding at the newcomers, "are Larla and Jonathan; the last members of the Departed."

Jace looked back at the couple. So this was the Departed, all of them. His heart started pounding as around him Clary, Will, Simon and Celia began celebrating their friends' homecoming, but all Jace felt was sick, as if the full force of what was happening had finally hit him.


	35. Chapter 35

Ky came home to a quiet house.

"Mom? Dad? Ceals?" He called, standing at the foot of the stairs and looking up, looking to see if Celia would bend over the upstairs rail and say hello, but there came no reply and he dropped his backpack and pulled off his jacket with a sigh. He had come home from dinner with some of his theater friends and had expected to see at least someone from his family. Obviously not. He trudged up the stairs and into the room. He fingered his knives, stacked neatly by the door, considering going to the attic and throwing, but didn't have the heart right now. He collapsed on his bed and closed his eyes.

He felt rotten. He didn't know why really, he just did. Well, that wasn't the truth. He did know. One of the boys, Jacob, had popped on a Beatles song at the restaurant and stood by the jukebox singing, a stupid expression on his face, and Ky had laughed right along with all the others, but in truth he felt like he'd just been sucker punched right where it hurt. It was such a Nick thing to do. Nick had loved the Beatles, had ranted to Ky for endless hours about how they were the best band to walk the earth, how no one like them would ever come again. Ky had always watched his boyfriend's barely contained zeal for the subject with a quiet adoration. Nick was the kind of person who loved explosively and passionately. He could still remember what it had been to be with that boy, although it had been months since either had seen each other.

He rolled over and flicked on his fun. playlist. They were one of his favorite bands, that and Imagine Dragons. Nick had taken him to several of the latter's concerts, but had never cashed in on his promise to get tickets for the former. Ky had been the one to introduce Nick to both groups, and Nick had loved him for it. Nick adored singing like Ky adored acting.

_I guess it's all alright./I got nothing left inside of my chest…_

Ky was doing his best not to curl up and cry like he wanted to. It was so messed up. He wanted, more than anything, to hate Nicholas for all he had done, and a small part of him did, but not all of him. Some part of him still loved Nick, still wanted Nick to deny anything had ever happened, or to say that he only wanted Ky, and that he was sorry, so sorry. But Nick had left Ky on the Santa Monica Pier and he hadn't even looked back as he walked away.

_I was surprised you stuck around/long enough to figure out..._

Ky sat up and stared miserably at his phone. It wasn't late here, not in the least. Slowly, he picked it up and started punching in the number. Maybe they could fix things; maybe it would be alright, maybe, maybe. He hesitated before hitting the call button. Did he really want to do this? Would he even be able to? He thought of Celia, looking at him in the hallway a few days ago, eyes large on her slender face and brimming with worry.

_"What about you?"_

_"What about me?"_

_"Are you OK?"_

No. He wasn't. He was pretty sure he never ever would be. It felt like someone had forcibly torn his heart from his body and left him lying on the ground, bloody and screaming. He didn't want to keep going if he was always going to feel like this, if he was always going to feel this aching sense of loss, for the rest of his life, until the day he died. He wanted to die; it got so bad at moments like this. Ky slammed his phone shut and squeezed his eyes shut as well, doing his best not to lose it and start weeping.

_And now all my loves that come back to haunt me,/And my regrets, and texts sent to taunt me…_

Unexpectedly, the boy's, Alec Lightwood's, face flashed in front of his eyes. He had looked so utterly and completely broken. Ky wondered what had driven him to go to the temporary home of a vampire everyone else seemed to have known was dangerous. What had he lost? For, Ky remembered, looking at him, that miserable expression that seemed to cross over his face when Ky had said he wasn't Magnus, the way Alec had barely fought him, it was clear that he had lost something and given up because of it.

_But I came back with the belief/that everyone I love is gonna leave me…_

Suddenly, Ky was very curious about this Alexander Lightwood. He wanted to see him again, to talk to him, to get to know him.

Downstairs, the front door opened and Ky heard it slam shut. Keys were dropped in the bowl on the side table with a jangle.

"Ky?" Celia's voice wandered up to him, though the music.

"Up here." He replied, flat on his back, eyes screwed shut, not wanting to move. Alec was forgotten and thoughts were back on Nick. He heard Celia come up the steps and stand in the doorway to his room.

_You've fallen from the sun,/ Crashing through the clouds…_

"Well," She said, surveying him, "You're certainly in an awful shape."

Ky groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. He didn't want a lecture from his little sister about getting better.

Celia sighed. "I'm taking it you don't want me to stay around?"

Ky didn't even grace that with a response.

He could practically see Celia smiling, though. "You've been better, Ky, believe me, but listen to me when I tell you that you've been worse too."

_I see you burning out…_

Celia frowned at his stereo. "Why is your music so depressing?"

"It's not depressing," Ky said, mumbling into his pillow. "It's fun. Literally, it's fun."

"Whatever. Thought you might want to know, Lars and Jonathan are back."

_that I put up a front/But maybe just this once,/let me keep this one…_

Normally, Ky would have replied with some witty remark, perhaps about how they were back in black, but he didn't say anything. He heard Celia shift her weight in the doorway as he didn't reply and she struggled to find the right thing to say.

"Just thought you might want to know. G'night Ky."

Ky rolled over once she had walked away and flicked off his bedroom light for him. His room wasn't very exciting, in his opinion, and he stared up at the chipped paint on the ceiling in the dim light before he closed his eyes and drifted into a shallow sleep. On his bedside table, the music continued to play…

_I got nothing left inside of my chest/but it's all alright._


	36. Chapter 36

Clary leaned her head on Jace's shoulder and yawned, although she tried not to. She didn't want to leave him just yet. Life, it seemed, just wouldn't calm down. First, Jace had been hurt and she hadn't been able to see him, then Celia had shown up, then Alec had been hurt and Jace had stayed with his brother until it seemed clear that Alec would be fine. She was glad that they were getting to spend this time together. She had turned down Will's offer for a ride and grabbed Jace as she left instead, and now they were sitting in the Institute's greenhouse.

She felt Jace's chest rumble beneath her as he laughed. "You sound tired."

She frowned at him. I am not."

He looked like he didn't believe her, but wasn't about to argue.

"Fine, maybe a little." She poked him. "But not as tired as you look."

He sighed and pushed his hand through his hair, making it stand up a little. "I've just been so worried about Alec…" He said.

She pulled away and looked at him, really looked at him. He looked exhausted; there were dark circles under his eyes and a weary tightness in his jaw that hadn't been there before. "I know. Just…don't forget about what you need too, alright?"

He looked at her and smiled. She loved it when he smiled at her like that, like if he loved her more than anyone else alive. "Come here," he said, gently placing her fingertips on her arm and drawly her close. Tentatively, he set his lips against hers for a few moments in an almost kiss, but he pulled away too quickly and all too soon. "I love you," He said carefully, "You know that, right?"

She felt her brow furrow in confusion over his question and a certain sound in his voice that she wasn't so sure about. "Of course. And I love you."

He smiled again, only this time it was a little wan. "Come on, I'll walk you out." He stood up and held out his hand, which she took, staring at his face, trying to decide what was plaguing him.

"Magnus dumped Alec."

"Well that sucks."

Jace nodded. "That's why he went after Camille. He blames her, for some reason."

"Is he OK?"

Jace shrugged. "He's managing. I think everyone, including him, is more focused on his physical wounds, and he's probably going to be hobbling around on crutches for a while, but it's going to hit him hard later, emotionally, I'm sure."

They stopped outside the elevator doors. She looked at him. "And will you be alright?"

He nodded. 'So long as I have you, I think I'll be able to get through anything."

It was her turn to smile as he reached over and pressed the call button for the elevator. "Thank you, by the way, for playing nice with Departed. It can be hard sometimes, I know." She said.

He laughed. "They're not half-bad, I suppose, and it helps that you have Isabelle singing your praises."

Clary laughed. "Celia's really taken to her, and I'm sure Lars will too, once they get to know each other better."

The stepped into the mirrored confines of the box, Jace leaning against one wall and watching her, hands in his pockets. "As for Will and his ducks…"

Clary shook her head. "I swear, you two are like night and day, sometimes."

He looked at her through his lashes and it was all she could do not to lose her focus and start kissing him. "And at other times?"

She smiled a little crookedly. "You are both more alike than I think either of you realizes. Trust me on that."

He looked at her dubiously. "I don't see it."

"That's because you don't know him. Are you guys still doing the solo contest together?"

The elevator screeched to a stop and Jace reached over and yanked the door open, holding it aside so that she could step out before he followed. "Yeah. Say what you will about his questionable taste and opinion towards ducks, but he's one of the best musicians I've ever heard. Better than me, maybe."

Clary gaped at him. "You? Admit that someone is better? No."

He laughed, and it filled the vaulted space. "Crazy, right? In all my years I never expected to meet anyone who could ever equate to my awesome self, but it seems that perhaps I've met my match."

"Will's my best friend. No doubt about it."

"What about Simon?"

Clary shrugged. "Simon and I have always been close, but Will's my true best friend. There's not a lot we don't tell each other," She confessed.

Jace looked at her sideways. "What all do you tell him?"

Unexpectedly, she blushed. "I don't know. It's just…" The connection clicked in her mind. "It's like you and Alec."

Jace screwed up his face. "Really?"

She nodded, warming up to the idea. "We're just close in a way that I don't think I am with anyone else."

"What about you and me?"

She clasped her hands around the back of his neck delicately. It wasn't so much that he was made of glass as that they didn't know what was and wasn't safe anymore. She teased him, close enough that he could kiss her but not quite. "What about you and me? We're a different sort of close."

He couldn't help himself; he cradled her face in his long pianist fingers and kissed her deeply. A spark of heat caused her to pull away though, if reluctantly. "Go see Alec. You two need to be with each other right now, and I have to get home. My mom's going to be angry that I stayed out this late as it is."

Jace looked back towards the elevator, biting his lip, then back at her. "See you tomorrow?"

She smiled and nodded, and went to push open the Institute's heavy door. Once, he would've helped her; it was such a comical picture, tiny Clary opening the huge door. But that was a long time ago, it seemed, and she was so much stronger now that she didn't need his help anymore. Before she could leave though, a thought occurred to him. "Clary!" He called.

She turned to him, her burnt orange eyebrows up in an unasked question. "The Institute; we host a Christmas party every year. I was wondering if you would want to come with me."

She grinned. "Of course. Why would I not want that?" She blew him a kiss and stepped out and Jace stared at the door through which she had departed for a few minutes before heading back upstairs to his vigilant post at Alec's bedside.


	37. Chapter 37

Will was jumping up and down on Jonathan's bed with Celia and Simon. It was perfectly synched so that only one of them hit the peak of the jump, or the valley of it, at a time. Jonathan and Larla bad been making out in the corner of his room, but they were taking a break now to get something to drink and watch them. Electric Light Orchestra was playing.

"I don't know," Jonathan said. "I don't like that Clary's gone. It's wrong. It screws with the group dynamic. I suddenly feel like we're about to fall apart or something."

Celia laughed. "Are you kidding me? I've never felt freer. We're the Departed! We stay out late and act ridiculous. We do crazy things and laugh about it later. There's nothing that can hold us back anymore."

"Well I hope I'm included in your plans." Clary strutted in. She felt like a regent suddenly back in possession of her court. Will stopped jumping and looked at her. If Jace was a lion in all his tawny and gold colored glory, Will was a panther draped in the dark cloaks of his shadows. He was staring at her as such now, Jonathan glancing back and forth between them with a crookedly happy smile on his face.

"Lady," Will said softly. He stepped of the bad in a single bound. "Glad to see you could join us. Does Mister Fantastic mind horribly?"

Clary leaned against the wall, looking at her subjects. She felt the familiar deadly and dangerous power rolling deep insider her, uncoiling like a snake that had spent too much time asleep. The look on Celia's seemed matched this feeling as she twisted her hair and looked at Clary waiting for command. Simon stood still, chin held proud, and she knew he felt it too, that sudden sensation of being very much awake.

She looked around Jonathan's room. It was a large space, although seemingly without windows. The yellow walls were covered in framed albums of ELO, Yes, The Who, the Stones, Traveling Wilburys, the Doors, the Cure, as well as many others. Jonathan had always adored the rock legends of their parents' age. Knowing him, they were probably all originals, and he probably had all the actual records tucked away somewhere, the record player in the corner of the room next to his drum set hinted at such, anyways. He had no rug on the floor, leaving the warped floorboards exposed. There was a desk in the corner with a computer frozen on a bit of footage he had obviously taped and was now editing. He and Larla sat there. She studied each of them, her friends, her Departed.

She pulled off the wall and grinned. "He doesn't even know I'm here."

Larla smiled slowly then seemed to cackle, everyone else joining in. "Oh, Departed, sneaking around, being where we don't belong. It's not easy this life. Clary sat down, leaning against the foot of the bed, Will coming to join her, and looked at the girl.

"When was it ever?"

Jonathan laughed. "Try, never."

They laughed. Jonathan flipped a drumstick he'd been playing with.

Celia looked around, an excited smile on her face. "How many lonely nights has it been, guys? How long since we've all been together?"

Clary and Will looked at each other hesitantly. "Not since the Incident of Promise Nine." Will said hesitantly.

Tension suddenly sprang up in the air. Simon folded his legs and fell down on the bed with a flop. "We need to amend that. Promise Nine needs to happen."

Everyone turned to look at him, surprised. Will called Simon Wise Eyes because, of all of them, he was the one who looked at things the most clearheadedly. He saw with the wisest eyes. This sounded reckless and dangerous. They all remembered how Promise Nine had ended last time, why would anyone want a repeat of that? Why would Simon suggest that they do something so dangerous.

Celia grinned. "The Lover is right. We need to fix this. Once the weather breaks, we'll do it."

Jonathan nodded. He had videotaped it last time. Afterwards, he had hidden the footage in a random box in the attic so that he would never have to remember that day ever again. He, more than anyone, was eager to replace it with something better. "I'll film again."

"And what about the Departed?" Will asked.

Larla looked at him. "And what about us?"

Will's mischief was written on his face again. "Well, we were going to form a band, weren't we? I mean, Wise Eyes had already done it, but, what about us?"

Larla leaned back. "I've still got my guitar."

Jonathan peaked around her shoulder. "And I was drum line captain. I was always looking forward to doing that."

Celia shrugged. "All I was ever going to do was play piano sometimes and have vocals. Si?" She said, looking up at him.

He shrugged too. "It's not like I'm great friends with Eric, but I don't want to abandon him."

"Not," Clary said, "That it would really matter. You guys don't play that often anyways. And we wouldn't either for a while, too. Come on, Simon. It's the Departed. How can you say no?"

Simon surveyed his friends, looking at him, waiting for him to make a decision. He had started the band with the boys, the Math Team Heroes, as Will liked to call them, because he had always held onto the dream of doing just that one day. That's how he had bonded with Will, and later with Jonathan; through music and a love of playing it. Getting asked if he finally wanted to achieve this dream with his closest friends felt unreal. He felt that familiar happiness he had thought was long gone bubble up inside his yet again. How could he say no? "Then of course I play."

Will laughed, happy and full of hope. "Oh yeah! Departed all the way!"

Celia cheered. Larla and Jonathan started making out again. Clary's phone buzzed and she bent down to check it. Will read the text over her shoulder, and then met her eyes as they both looked up at each other. It felt like it happened a lot, these moments between the two of them, where the Departed would be off doing something and then suddenly a bubble would drop down around them. His voice was soft.

"Are you going to go?"

She felt like her heart was racing. "Only if you come with me." She said quietly. He nodded then pulled her to her feet and they left; everyone else oblivious in their plans for what was to come.


	38. Chapter 38

Celia stepped into the apartment and smiled. Fun. music was drifting down from the floors above. She wondered what Ky was up to. Her father stood at the bar just inside the kitchen door.

"Hello, Bug. Did you have fun?"

She nodded. "Lars and Johnny are back."

Her father brightened up. He loved the Departed, and knowing they were all together made him all the happier. "That's great Bug!"

She grinned. "Where's Ky?"

He smiled. "Upstairs, training."

Celia mounted the steps and sprinted up them. Ky would love this, the news about them being together, forming a band. She loitered in the doorway and watched him for a few seconds. Forget efficiency, Ky was getting stylish, showing off for no one but himself. She and Ky both loved throwing knives, fighting with them. There was just and appeal to the short, sharp blades that no other weapon held for either of them. She had always thought it was funny, being at Mrs. Fray's house and listening to her tell them to not play with knives. Celia loved playing with knives. It was a hobby she'd never be able to break. When she was upset, when she was happy, when she needed to think, when she needed to stop thinking, she always went to knives, and so, for that matter, did Ky.

He stopped and looked at her. "Hello, Ceals."

She walked in the room, hands behind her back, like if she had a really great secret. "Guess what?"

Ky smiled a little crookedly. "What."

"Johnny and Lars came back. The Departed are assembled."

Ky laughed. "I'm supposing then, that I'm reinstated as head caretaker of the whole lot of you."

Celia stopped, hands on her hips. "When have you not been, big brother?"

He chuckled and threw a knife under his leg. "Fair point. Hey-are you planning on going to the Christmas party at the institute."

Celia looked at him curiously. "Of course. It's a party, isn't it? I'm already planning on going shopping with Clary and Isabelle for a dress in the next few days."

Ky looked awkward. "Do you think I could come with you."

Celia's eyes bugged. Ky was gay, but he didn't tend to cross dress.

Ky saw her expression and back tracked quickly. "I mean, to the party. I want to go, but…not…" He gestured out, knife waving in his hand, as if Celia should be able to read what he was trying to say somewhere on the space in front of him. She pushed her tongue against the backs of her upper row of teeth.

"Yeah, I suppose so. The Departed was going as a group anyways. Well, except maybe Clary. Clary will probably go with Jace and hang out with us."

Ky nodded and chucked his knife into a target sideways. It hit the bull's-eye easily. Celia studied him for a moment.

"Why?" She asked.

He looked startled. "What do you mean, 'Why'?"

She sat down and stared at him unflinchingly. "Why do you want to go? You always found a reason to skip when we were in LA. I seem to recall that reason was almost always Nicholas, but you skipped none the less. You've never liked parties, so why the change of heart?"

Ky looked down. "Because I don't want to be here, in this house, alone."

"Oh, Kyros." Celia said. "You could have just said so." She smiled, unexpectedly and Ky looked up. "We'll have to find you a suit, something sleek and well to do. WE want to make good first impressions. You've barely talked to anyone since we moved here outside our family and the Departed. This is your Debutante!" She clapped her hands. "Oh, this is so exciting!"

Ky looked at her, suddenly wishing he hadn't said anything. "I'm a guy, Celia. When it's a guy, it's a Beautillion."

She looked at him, face sour. "Don't crush my vision."

Ky meekly threw another knife. Celia may be his little sister and significantly shorter than him, but even he got a little bit afraid when she gave him that kind of look.

"Just so long as it doesn't involve anything…extravagant."

"What's so bad about extravagance?"

Ky looked miserable. "It's bad enough that I have to go. Don't make me noticeable, please."

Celia sighed. "You're the one who said you wanted to go in the first place, but fine. I'll make sure it's down toned. How do you feel about pastel?"

Ky glared at her. "NO."

Celia giggled. "Fine. I'll look for something when I'm out dress shopping." She started humming a little, a song she heard will singing all the time.

Ky glanced at her. "Why are you humming Love Today?"

Celia looked up at him, surprised that Ky knew the song even from her poorly hummed rendition of it. "Will's always singing it, and it's kind of catchy."

Ky shook his head and sent another knife into a target. "I can't stand Mika."

"Why? Will seems to like him."

Ky shrugged. "I don't know. He just seems to be generally annoying."

Celia considered that for a minute then dismissed it. "The Departed are starting a band."

Ky stopped and stared at her. "What?"

"Is it so hard to believe? We always planned on doing it anyways. I think we might not be so bad."

"It's going to be an interesting endeavor. That's for certain." The knife, which had been balanced in his hand as she had talked, went somersaulting from his hand as he whipped around and threw it at a target behind him.

"Are you saying you don't think we'll be any good?"

He turned around and looked back at her. "I never said that at all. I think that you guys are going to either flunk or fly. With the Departed, there's never been an in-between."

Celia nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's true. We're all or nothing kind of people."

Ky grinned at her and sent another knife flying. "Together or not at all."

Celia smiled back. "Exactly." She leaned against the wall.

Ky went to go retrieve another knife. "So do you guys have an idea what you're going to play yet?"

Celia tucked her knees under her chin. "Yeah, plenty. I have some stuff that we went over. I think we might make it our first album."

Ky looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Album?"

"I've already found a place that records small garage bands; it's been on my mind for a while. I was going to take Will for Christmas or his birthday, now I might do that for all the boys; they love their music."

Ky nodded. "Fair point."

Celia watched him for a while longer. "Can I join?"

Ky smiled and nodded, holding out a knife. Celia stood up and took it, then sent it rocketing into the ceiling banister. Ky looked at it, then whistled. Celia looked at it too.

"Huh. I wonder if it will come down. I just wanted to see what will happen."

Ky laughed. "Tell you what, Ceals."

She looked at him. "What?"

"When that knife comes down," He pointed at it, "I will date someone."

Celia looked at him like if he was crazy.

"I saw that expression on your face just now, I know you were worrying about me again.

Celia groaned, and Ky walked out, practically cackling. She stared back up at the knife. How could this problem be solved? Getting that knife would take nothing short of a miracle or a superhuman action.


	39. Chapter 39

Clary straightened her dress, pushing out non-existent wrinkles in the fabric and stepped out. Celia smiled and glanced at Isabelle, who looked at Clary with approval. Larla had been the one to originally suggest the outfit and looked exceedingly pleased with herself. Clary glanced at the reflection in the mirror. Since getting the Departed back together, she had felt increasingly more confident in who she was and what she did, but even so, looking at herself now, her heart was doing back-flips just imagining how Jace would react. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, tilting her head to examine her image more critically.

The gown, for its length prevented it from being called a dress, was a shimmering emerald with golden undertones. The skirt was full and floated out in waves from her waist, which looked several sizes smaller in the tightly fitting top, which was made of a smooth silky fabric. The only potential problem she could see with it was the sleeves, which were made of the same gauzy material as the skirt, but only clung to the curve of her shoulders; it would be chilly in the winter air if she didn't have a coat.

"You look incredible." Celia said, coming up behind her and placing a hand on Clary's back, which was largely exposed.

Clary nodded. She would never be as confident and a sure as Celia or Isabelle, but she recognized when she looked pretty.

Isabelle nodded. "Jace is going to love it. Trust me, I live with him. He won't be able to stop looking at you, let alone talk."

Larla looked even smugger. True, she might not be the one wearing it, but that didn't stop her from being proud of how Clary would look. She stood up and stood next to Clary. "Show me how her hair would look if we teased it up, Ceals."

Celia obligingly started playing with Clary's hair until she got a rough idea of what she might want to do with it. "How's this?"

Larla nodded and tapped the reflection of Clary's ears. "Shame they're not pierced, I have just the pair that you could wear to make it look perfect."

Clary shrugged. I was only planning on wearing the Morgenstren ring anyways." She briefly touched it now, thoughts flashing to Jace. It seemed to stand for all there was between them. It was more valuable to her than any diamond necklace or extravagant piece of jewelry.

Lars nodded. "I like it. Simple. That's what makes it so chic."

Isabelle came over to join them. "What, leaving me out of the conversation? I'm offended."

Celia hit her playfully. "It's not like we meant to. You gotta learn, Iz. Step into the conversation, don't wait to be invited."

Isabelle laughed and looked at Lars. "I'm sorry you can't go."

Lars shrugged. "I won't deny the fact that I'm a little envious of the fact you all get to be so glamorous, but I don't mind. That just means I get a free night alone with Jonathan."

Celia looked at her funny. "You really love him, don't you?"

Larla grinned. "I couldn't ask for a better man. He's sweet, he's kind, he's funny, he's very, very handsome, he loves music, and he's respectful and cares very deeply for me. What more could a girl want?"

Clary considered. "Fair point."

They wall went to sit back down again, Clary doing so carefully and spreading her skirts around herself like some queen may have once done. All she lacked to complete the image was an elegant divan.

Isabelle looked at Larla. "How long have you guys been dating?"

Larla looked, for once, very shy. "Since we were thirteen. He was very nervous, he walked me home and asked tripping over his words a little, image of the perfect gentlemen. When he kissed me, it was sloppy, but the gesture was heartwarming. He's gotten better at it since."

Celia laughed. "But it's not like you guys haven't been in love with each other since you were like, nine."

Larla laughed as well and nodded. "What about you, Iz. How did you meet Simon?"

Isabelle shrugged. "First time we actually met was at the Institute. He was the only one who would eat my soup, but I think that was more of him trying to get Clary jealous." She glanced at Clary but Clary only shrugged in response, so she went on. "I don't know how we ended up dating, really. We just started spending more time together." Isabelle glanced at Cealia. "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

Celia looked at her, eyes wide. "Heavens, no. Sure I've slept with guys and kissed them and all that; had a string of affairs, but I've never actually dated dated someone."

"Why not?"

It was Celia's turn to shrug. "I don't know. I haven't ever thought of someone like that, really."

Larla leaned forward. "What about Will? You always like him, didn't you?"

Clary felt a sharp stab of something inside, although she wasn't sure what or why. So what if Celia had once liked Will? She obviously didn't anymore. She studied some lint she thought she saw on her skirt, but listened with keen ears.

"Oh, I guess we had a fling while I was in Chicago, but he didn't really think of me like that, I know. Will…when he falls in love with someone it's practically utterly and completely, and he was definitely in love with someone else when I was with him."

Clary swallowed and looked up. She didn't want to be talking about this anymore. "I'm going to go change," She said softly.

Celia nodded off-handedly, listening to something Lars was saying. Clary walked to the dressing room slowly. She felt sick to her stomach. Of course Will would have dated someone, it wasn't like she had total control of his actions, it shouldn't have bothered her, and it was none of her business anyways. Will had said as much, hadn't he? As she pulled off the gown and slid on her street clothes, she realized that was the problem though. She had been hoping that the bomb that Celia had so truthfully pointed out upon her return, would be dead, mute, nonexistent, but it wasn't. It was very much alive, and Clary didn't know what to do about that, which scared her more than anything else.


	40. Chapter 40

Will rosined his bow carefully, murmuring along with the Mika song he was playing, the picked up his viola carefully. Simon watched him from his place on Will's bed, filling out homework he was making up. Will had stepped in and made the executive decision that Simon, at the very least, needed to finish the year. Whether he continued to attend the next term was up to him, but Will was big on finishing the things you started, and had insisted, even if Simon wasn't currently living at home.

"And," as Will had pointed out at the time, "I'm pretty sure it's technically illegal for you to not attend."

"I'm a vampire now," Simon had argued back. "That means I'd have to attend school for the rest of my life."

Will had just blinked at him. "Just because your body isn't aging doesn't mean that you're not older."

So Simon was back in school and spent most of his extra time here, with Will, studying. He watched Will draw the bow across the string and launch into some classical piece, although Mika's pop continued to play in the background.

"What's that?" Simon asked.

"Arpeggione," Will replied, picking up a pencil and making a correction on the page. "Go back to reading. Walk me through the problem as you do it. You need to be solid on this stuff for finals."

Simon groaned and looked at the calculus set in front of him. "I'm really tempted to call Ky and get him to explain all of this to me."

Will glanced at Simon. "So call him. That's what we used to do. He was on the math team for a reason."

Simon shrugged. "Can't, don't have his number. Besides," He said, picking up another piece of homework, "He wouldn't even begin to explain some of this U.S. history stuff to me."

Will stopped playing and came over to him, turning his head to look at the page. "I'm pretty sure it's talking about Jackson."

Simon shook his head, "No, it says right here it's about Wilson,"

"Oh."

"History had never been your strong suit, has it?"

Will looked at him and laughed. "No, that was always Jonathan and Lars." He stood up and stared playing again, swaying over to his window.

Simon sighed and went back to working. "And you were always in love with your music."

Will shrugged. "Well, it's not like I know the context of whatever it is you're learning right now."

Simon considered this. "Fair point."

Carlyn walked in with some lunch for Will. "Hello, boys," She chimed.

"Hi." Will resumed playing. Carlyn watched, slightly bemused then sat down on the bed next to Simon.

"Hello, Mrs. A," he said, without looking up. Carlyn was used to Simon's presence in her home; he and Will had been good friends since they were kids and Simon had often come over to study or hang out. Carlyn cared for him, as well as the rest of the Departed, as if he was her own child. She ruffled his hair affectionately.  
"What's bugging you, Simon?"

He gestured at the paper. "It makes no sense!"

Caryln leaned over and looked at what he was reading; a background on Dickens. She pursed her lips. 'What don't you understand?"

Simon looked at her mournfully. "What this has to do with anything. Our teacher wants to compare themes from Dickens' works to some form of contemporary literature as an example of why he matters."

Carlyn sighed. "What novel of his did you read?"

"_Great Expectations_ and parts of _A Tale_."

Carlyn nodded. "So what are some things that happened in both books that were similar?"

Simon threw up his hands. "Nothing! Nothing about those books was similar besides the fact that they were both very confusing."

Will laughed from his place by the window. He stopped playing for a moment to look at the pair. "I agree with Wise Eyes on this one. Here," He said, tossing his phone to Simon, "Call Celia. Just like old times, Departed helping Departed."

Carlyn stood up. "If you're calling in the literary master, then I guess I won't be needed. You two have fun."

Simon looked like he seriously doubted that happening and Will was too focused on playing the correct fingering that he didn't even look up. Simon dialed in Celia's number and watched Will, playing his classical string solo over the pop tunes of Mika without seeming to notice how much the two sounds clashed. He shook his head, concealing a laugh, as he hit Celia's number and called her.

"Willim, I'm busy right now," came the immediate answer.

"Actually, it's Simon, but it's nice to hear from you too, Glitter."

"Lover! How many times do I have to tell you two not to call me that?"

"You'll be telling us forever. You're obsession with sparkly dust will never cease to be the most amusing, and therefore, exploitable, part of your personality."

At the end of the line, Celia made a large sound of doubt. "Fine," she snapped. "Now, what do you want, Lover, you may not be Willim, but I'm still busy."

"Busy doing what?"

"Getting dresses and a suit for Ky with Izzy, Clary and Lars."

"Oh," Simon said. He wished he hadn't asked. The Christmas ball was held in the Institute, so he would be unable to attend, but that hadn't stopped Isabelle. She was still going, even if he wouldn't be there. He had told her that he was fine with it, and that he wanted her to have fun, but it still hurt. Celia seemed to be realizing this.

"Look-Lover." He heard her duck away from the others. "I know. It sucks that your girlfriend is going to this thing without you, but don't take it too hard, alright? I don't think she's looking forward to having to go without you, either."

He sighed. "It's fine, Ceals, really. I have to study, anyways."

He could practically hear her making a face at that. "Yick. Studying. I can't tell you how glad I am that I don't have to do that anymore."

Despite himself, Simon laughed. Celia was a star child, smart, clever, naturally gifted, but she wasn't motivated to learn and had always hated school, getting bad grades in virtually every class but English and History. Besides that, she had always scraped by with a C average.

"I was wondering if you could help me with my English homework."

Now he had her excitement. "Anything involving books, especially for you, Lover."

"What is a theme from Dickens works that can be related to a contemporary work and therefore demonstrate Dickens' lasting influence on society?"

Celia was quiet for a moment. "You've got to be joking, Lover. But if you're not…" She sighed. "I assume you're at Will's?"

He confirmed this.

"Well, you don't sound like you're joking. God, Si. It's such a simple question. I'm on my way to help you though. Give me a sec to grab some books from home."

Simon chuckled. "Alright Ceals. See ya soon." He hung up and looked at Will, who had stopped playing and was staring out the window, distracted by something.

"Celia's coming over," he said.

Will turned around, released from the hypnosis of whatever he had seen. He nodded and started playing again, loosing himself in his own thoughts, and Simon let him be. Rolling over to listen and wait for Celia to come save him.


	41. Chapter 41

Celia flipped through a magazine on Isabelle's bed, looking for a suitable hairstyle for herself. Isabelle was standing at the Vanity table behind Clary, pins in her mouth as she pinned the other girl's hair up. She turned and looked at Celia.

"So did you talk to Simon?"

Celia nodded. "He needed serious help. We've all been taking turns, and it helps that Jonathan and Lars are actually in some of his classes and have been able to help him.

Isabelle nodded. "That's good. I would help, but I'm not really sure how."

It's alright, Celia said, eying an outrageous style that, while looking absolutely stunning, was a bit excessive. "It's fine. He gets that."

Isabelle sighed. "It's just that he hasn't really been talking to me, lately and I hope he's not mad at me about this and using his homework to avoid talking about it."

Clary reached up and patted her arm. "I'm sure it's not that, Iz. He does love you."

Isabelle was still for a moment while she considered that. "Are you guys sure?"

Celia looked up. "Trust us. No one knows the Lover as well as we do."

Isabelle shrugged and finished with Clary's hair. "How's that?"

Clary stood up and studied her reflection in the mirror. "Just fine. You did a great job."

Isabelle beamed. The girls had decided to meet up before the ball at the Institute in her room to get ready and just hang out, and it was clear all three of them were enjoying themselves.

Isabelle's door slid open and an attractive boy with jet black hair that fell a little into his deep, clear, blue eyes. He wore a wrinkled black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that were starting to fade at the knees. He supported himself on a pair of crutches, for although shadowhunters healed easily, it was clear he had been badly wounded. The only thing that ruined his looks was the scowl that wrenched his face.

"Izzy, what the Hell did you do to church?"

Isabelle looked at Alec with large, innocent eyes. "I didn't do anything to him."

Alec glared at her. "Well, it obviously wasn't Jace! Jace hates Church and Church hates him back! The only other person it could be is you, because it definitely wasn't me!"

Isabelle sighed. She looked very peeved. "What's wrong with him in the first place, Alec?"

Alec threw up his hands. "I don't even know! Something's wrong though."

Now Isabelle was the one glaring. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "Thank you, Alec, for that exceedingly detailed description of what's wrong with our cat." The dry sarcasm in her voice was plain in her voice as the two siblings continued to glower at one another.

Alec huffed. "Fine. I'll deal with it myself I guess. Don't blame me if he dies, though." He went to slam the door shut, but Izzy stopped him with her next sentence.

"Go ahead, just so long as you're ready to go by the time this thing starts."

Alec stopped and turned around slowly. "Izzy, I thought I already told you, I don't want to go." His voice was low, and dangerously quiet.

Isabelle set her chin to a sterner and more stubborn angle. "I don't care. You need to stop moping and go do something useful with your life."

Alec looked at her with an unmatched wave of hatred. "I said 'no', Iz."

Isabelle shrugged, undeterred. "If you don't get ready yourself, I'll come after and do it for you."

Alec looked at her like if he was trying to decide whether or not she was being serious. He rolled his eyes. "Fine, you win. But I'm only going for an hour." He hobbled out, leaving the door open behind him. Isabelle walked over and shut it, a sad expression on her face.

"He was happier when he was with Magnus. Now he's just so glum all the time. Even before, he was a bit more colorful than this, but now?" She shook her head and sat down next to Celia. "Forget it."

Clary looked at her friend. "Do you think he'll ever recover?"

"Physically? Yeah, sure. Emotionally? No. Magnus broke his heart into little itty bitty pieces and that's not something a Band-Aid can fix"

Celia stared at Isabelle curiously. "You're brother's gay?"

Isabelle glanced venomously at Celia, if her eyes had been daggers, they would have drawn blood with such a gaze. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Celia smiled. "Not in the least. Mine is too, Ky. The guy who found Alec. Ky is as gay as gay can be, it just isn't really noticeable unless you really know him."

Clary grinned. Ky had always been a good friend of the Departed-looking after them and keeping them out of trouble. He was a few years older than them and she remembered the desperate look that would come across his face when girls started flirting with him, like if he wanted to explain his homosexuality and how he wasn't interested but didn't know how because he was so shy about it outside the people he interacted with on a more personal and social basis.

Isabelle blinked in surprise. "You've got to be joking."

Celia shook her head. "I'm not. Believe me."

Isabelle was speechless.

Clary decided it was high time she cut into the conversation. "She's not. Also, I'd like to point out Ky's current single status. If anything, it seems like both of them need someone else in their lives right now, at the very least to get over their break-ups."

Celia looked devious. "Clary, you aren't suggesting what I think you're suggesting, are you?"

Clary beamed wickedly. "Oh yes I am."

Isabelle looked like she was still trying to keep with the rapid pace thought process between Clary and Celia, but gasped when she finally got a grasp on the general idea. "Are you seriously suggesting we set up our brothers?" She asked Celia.

Celia shrugged. "Ky's opposed, I know. He won't be getting a boyfriend anytime soon without a great deal of kicking and c=screaming on his part, but at the very least, we could introduce them…"

Isabelle's smile started to match Clary's. "Alec as well, but I like the way you think. Is Ky coming?"

"Oh, you bet he is. He started having second thoughts this morning. I quickly dispelled them."

Isabelle smiled, looking back and forth between her two friends. "So," she said, resisting the urge to rub her hands together like some cheesy childhood villain. "How exactly are we going to do this?"


	42. Chapter 42

Clary wanted to laugh when she saw Will. He was moping in the hallway, leaning on the wall next to Jace and Alec. She had to admit; the three of them looked particularly stunning, but only Jace looked like he didn't mind. Will and Alec looked miserable; both being the sort of person who didn't give more than a moment's thought to what they wore in the morning. They looked a little stiff and uncomfortable in their formal wear, as if they were both aching to pull on a t-shirt and jeans.

Celia didn't exercise as much self-control and chuckled at the sight of them, gliding up to Will, who allowed her to retie his tie correctly, if a little bashfully. Clary's eyes had been on the two of them, so she jumped a little when Jace materialized next to her.

"You look incredible." He said softly, bending down to whisper the complement in her ear.

She turned her head to look at him. His eyes were a very deep and attractive gold, almost black. She pecked him quickly on the lips and smiled.

"Thank you." Carefully, she laid a hand on his arm, noticing a slight shock as she did so. "Calm down, we don't want anything burning up."

Jace shrugged, completely unashamed and Clary resisted the urge to start making out with him then and there. _Focus_, she told herself sternly.

Isabelle glared at her brother, who looked like he was trying to sink into the wall and become part of it, avoiding direct attention and the discomfort of being where he didn't want to be.

"Alec," She said, frowning. "Come _on."_

Alec scowled but detached himself from the walk like if he was fighting against some sort of static electricity holding him there.

"I don't understand why you're making me come, Iz. It's pointless, absolutely pointless."

Isabelle sighed. "Stop being such a drama queen, Alexander. We already get enough of that from Jace."

Jace looked up, indignant. "Hey!"

Isabelle turned frown her from on him. "Oh, like you don't know it's true."

Jace laughed and shrugged, lightened by Isabelle's good humored jab. Clary smiled, he looked so happy. She felt someone's eyes on her and she turned her head to see Will, looking at her with a small smile on his face.

"You look lovely," He mouthed.

Clary felt the heat rise to her face as she blushed. Celia, beside him, was smiling as well, if a little sadly. Clary turned her lips up, matching Celia's expression, as a small pang went through her heart. Quickly, she turned back to Jace and his siblings, who were now exchanging well-meant quips.

Isabelle, at last, shook her head. "Alright, let's get this show on the road." She sashayed quickly down the hallway, practically towing Alec like a boat behind her. Clary and Jace started walking after her, Will in Celia falling in step a little behind them.

"So, where is this being held?" Clary said, looking up at Jace curiously.

"The ballroom. We don't use it a lot. There are a lot of rooms we don't use here a lot. It's kinda silly how big this place is."

"Where even is that?"

Jace looked at her as if to suggest the fact that the only one who might know was Isabelle, and even that was dubious.

"How do you live here and not know that?"

Jace shrugged. "I was just never interested."

Clary pursed her lip in acceptance. "Makes sense I guess. Do you guys do this every year?"

Jace nodded. "Pretty much, but Alec and I tend not to go. Really, it's all the adults looking fancy. It's no fun when you have nobody that you'd actually enjoy go with."

Clary nodded. "So you have no idea what it's going to be like?"

He shook his head. "Not really, no."

Clary threw her head back and laughed. "Well that will definitely help make it an experience to remember."

Jace grinned. "Yes, I suppose it certainly will. And I must say, my presence will most certainly make things a bit livelier."

She matched his grin. "Oh, I'm sure that will be the case as well."

Jace's smile faded a little. "Your mom and Luke are here, by the way."

Clary looked at him, evidently bewildered by this news. "Why? She's not part of the clave anymore…what reason does she have for coming?"

The look in his eyes told her that he understood as much about her mother's actions as she did. "Maybe she wanted it to be a little bit of a family thing, you know? Being here together?"

"She didn't tell me." Clary said, slightly annoyed.

"Perhaps Luke was invited and it just slipped her mind to mention it. Don't sweat it. I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it."

Clary bit her lip and looked behind them at Will and Celia, who were chatting happily, Celia's slender arm threaded through Will's, as if they were some Victorian couple. Occasionally, she would tilt her head back and laugh at something he had said, and Will would twist his mouth in a wry little smile. He caught Clary looking at him, a nodded at her. If he was puzzled by the worried expression on her face, he didn't let it show. Jace followed her gaze as Will turned back to his conversation with Celia.

"Why are you looking at him?" Jace asked, a certain edge to his voice that suggested that he didn't like it.

Clary shook her head and faced forward again. "Nothing. It's just…I haven't told my mom that Will's around…" She trailed off; her expression a mixture of worry and guilt.

"Are you afraid that there's going to be Hell to pay?"

Clary's face was getting increasingly more concerned. "Hell doesn't even begin to describe it." She glanced back at Will again, chewing hard on her cheek. Jace wondered what she was thinking about that was making her so distressed, but then she turned back to look at him. "Will you help me make sure that they stay away from each other? I don't want to ruin the party."

Jace looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Relax, Fray. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. What could he have done to get your mom to hate him so badly?"

The expression on Clary's face said that there was a lot, a lot that Will had done to earn her mother's wrath, but she otherwise didn't answer, and Jace felt an ice-cold chill flood into his stomach as they stepped into the ballroom and joined the party.


	43. Chapter 43

Clary looked about the ballroom and stifled a gasp. The scene was beautiful; everyone was dressed elegantly and in the center of the room they swirled about in some classic waltz. At one end of the room was the most magnificent Christmas tree Clary had ever seen, decorated in winding gold and silver tinsel and large globes of the same color. All the other ornaments were cut in the shape of runes, and seemed to be made from adamas. The tree topper was a large rendition of the angle that looked its materials were strands as fine as spiderwebs. Across the walls and ceiling were large swaths of cloth in festive colors. Around the edges of the room were tables and benches for the partygoers to take a seat, rest. And refresh them at. Two large tables covered in all manners of food ran along the two sides of the room, and those who weren't dancing or talking quietly at the tables were socializing there.

"Wow." She said, breathless.

Jace looked down at her, a delighted smile on his face, as if he had been the one to craft this wonderland specifically for her enjoyment in mind. "Do you like it?" He asked softly.

Numbly, she nodded. Her fingers itched for her sketchbook; she had never had a greater urge to sit down and draw what had been set before her. It was amazing; it was the most magnificent scene she had ever set her eyes on. Its beauty rivaled even the fireworks party in Allicante and that was a feat Clary had previously believed wasn't even possible. "It's—"She started then just looked up at him, his golden eyes were shining. He grinned. "I don't even know how to begin to describe it."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Well at the very least I hope you're not too distracted to dance."

She shook her head, still lost in awe at the sight, as he took her arm and led her out to the dance floor, joining the crowd of swirling couples.

"I must say I'm surprised," He said.

She looked at him questionably, taking a moment to cease her roaming eyes.

"I didn't know that you could dance like this."

She scoffed. "I've danced with you before, haven't I?"

He shrugged. "That was different. We were at a club. In Prague. This is waltzing back home."

Clary frowned. "I don't see how the _style _of dance should be affected by the place."

Jace looked at her and his eyes pleaded with her to come clean.

"Will taught me, when we were kids. We all taught each other weird little tid-bits like that. He also taught me how to defend myself in the event of a mugging."

Jace's eyes flashed for a moment with some emotion that was gone to quickly for Clary to identify, but then he sighed. "There's not a lot he didn't teach you, is there?" He sounded almost resigned, as if he already knew the answer and didn't like it.

She shook her head. "No, not really. To be fair though, I showed him how to do things, and he showed Celia, and I would show Simon, and Jonathan and Lars; well, they were always sprouting interesting little pieces of wisdom."

"But when it boiled down to it, it was always you and Will."

She furrowed her brow, concerned by something she had caught in his tone and the nature of the question. He stared back at her steadily and unwavering.

"Yes. He is my best friend after all. Why are we even talking about this?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. Would you rather not talk about it?"

She frowned at him. "Yes. That's…Will. Why can't we just think about Us?"

He blinked, as if something about what she had said surprised him, then twitched the corner of his mouth up in a smile. "Alright, what do you want to talk about then?"

She sighed "I don't know."

"Can I ask you a question then?"

She looked at him warily. "Sure."

"What happened between you and Will that caused your mother to hate him so much?"

Clary's face darkened, as if a shadow had detached itself from some hellish place and settled there. "That's a long and complicated story."

"What's so bad about it?"

Clary bit her lip and swallowed, turning her head to look away. "A lot of things. I still have nightmares…" She trailed off when she realized that she had said more than she meant. Jace was looking at her, dubious expression on his face.

"Sounds serious."

"We try not to talk about it."

"Why?"

"Because we don't!" Clary had been hoping to keep her irritation at Jace's interrogation out of her voice, but knew, from the hurt in her face, that she had failed miserably. She pressed her fingertips into her forehead as they stopped dancing; Jace noticeably no longer holding her and other pairs moving around them with glares and mutters about the rudeness of teenagers. She wanted to cry, indeed she had to swallow back the sob that threatened to choke out of her throat. Jace seemed to notice and he set his hand carefully on her back; she jumped a bit from feeling of it laid, butterfly light, there. Carefully he led her to one of the benches and helped her sit down before settling down next to her, guiding her head to his chest and stroking her hair end neck a little.

He kissed her forehead gently. "I'm sorry if I've upset you."

She pulled back slowly. "No, it's fine. I should be more open with you about the Departed." She looked at him evenly. "I'm the one who should say I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No–don't apologize for your friends. I shouldn't be so selfish to think that you belong to me and me alone." He smiled, if a little tentatively. "But yes, I would like it if you weren't so…reluctant…to talk with me about them."

She pulled him back to her, burying her nose in his neck. "I love you." She said softly.

He kissed her temple and she sighed from the happy warmth that seemed to spread from it. "I love you, too."

She pulled back, a bittersweet joy filling her face; she was sure, as she looked at him, holding him at a little less than arm's length away with her hand, balanced lightly on his arm. His finger's rose and positioned themselves with a graceful delicacy along the curve of her face.


	44. Chapter 44

Ky was so inexcusably bored he didn't even have a word for it. He was slouched at a table in the corner alone near the Christmas tree, watching the crowd with mournful eyes. He and Nick had gone together several times while he had been in Los Angeles and they had been dating. They had been the only same gender pair on the floor, and while Ky had always felt a little self-conscious and all too noticeable, Nick had taken the surprised glances in stride and encouraged his boyfriend to do the same. Ky missed Nick a lot tonight, seeing all of these people together, happy. He had thought it would be good for him to go out and meet some new people; he had been holed up in the attic too long throwing his knives and ignoring the general public of the Shadowhunter community. Really though, it was just giving him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't help but stare at the scene in front of him, despite it's overwhelming beauty, with an air of distaste. He wanted to go home, but Celia had made him promise that he'd stay, if only so that she would have someone to dance with later.

As if his thought of her had conjured her, Celia appeared before him like the essence of a shimmering angel immerging from the mist of the dawn. She stared at him for a few heartbeats, and he stared rebelliously back. "You're pathetic." She pronounced at last.

Will beside her, shot Ky a sympathetic smile before turning back to watch the dance floor, his eyes either searching for or following his Lady with the careful gaze one might find on a bodyguard. Celia bumped him with her elbow. "Isn't he pathetic, Will?"

Will, again disrupted in observation, turned to Celia with a lazy glance. "I would hardly say it's my place to judge. Let your brother be, Ceals. It obviously bad enough he has to be here."

Ky nodded his head in thanks to the younger boy, but Will had already turned his attention away again.

Celia sighed and plopped down in a chair nearby. "Everyone's celebrating, Ky. You need to pull yourself out of this foul mood and go find a boy to dance with."

Ky glared at her. "Oh, yes. I'm sure that if he's straight that will go down well."

Celia matched his stare. "Then you move on and find someone else," She said, venomously. "The very least you could do is try to socialize with people."

Ky blinked at her in amazement. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Hey, that is the reason why you're here– to introduce yourself to everybody and get them to like you before they determine you're not worth the effort and judge you before they know you."

"That would just make me feel like a poser."

"That's what politics is about Posing."

Ky sighed. "I don't care. You can't make me do any of that junk. I know what your ultimate motive is, anyways."

She cocked and eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

He looked at her sourly. "Have you even figured out how to get The Boyfriend Knife down yet?"

She pouted and turned away. "No, but you can be sure I'm working on it."

Ky watched her with more than a little amusement. He was starting to love that knife and all it stood for. So long as it was buried in the ceiling, he could reasonably resist any attempts his sister made to set him up with other guys. He was glad it was there. It protected his currently fragile heart and gave him time to heal a little form what had happened. Not that he believed he would ever be truly alright. The vast majority of the time he felt like someone had stabbed him with a blazing hot knife and he was, even now, feeling the dull aftermath of such a wound. He was fairly certain that such a wound would never go away, and if it did, then the scar would stick out on his soul, ugly and puckered, for the rest of his life. A small part of Ky hoped that the knife, at the very least, did stay there that long, if only so that he would never have to crawl out from the hold he had dug for himself ever again. He recognized, though, that Celia meant well though and reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You don't need to worry about me, Ceals. Really. I'm fine."

She looked at him, eyes darting over his face; she was always able to read him so easily. "I disagree strongly, and I think you need someone to help you out of this dark place, Ky. Not more space for you to get used to it and let it become a permanent part of you."

Ky shook his head. "Celia, for once, would you please, please, please, trust my judgment?"

She pulled away. "I don't know, Ky. I think you're too busy dealing with everything else that you don't realize how big your unhappiness is." She traced patterns on the tabletop with an idle hand. "It's almost like if you wear around like it's some jacket or armor. Like if you're protecting yourself from further hurt by using your current hurt. I look at you sometimes and…and I want to cry, because this just isn't you." She raised her eyes, the same color gray as his own, up to meet his face, and he saw all the worry and fear for him etched on her face. Hers was a face that was far too old to hold such lines, and he felt a pang of guilt at knowing that he was largely the cause of making it so.

"_Oh, sorella, lei non dovrebbe sprecare tue lacrime su di me." _He said, pulling her in close to hug her.

"_Non posso fare ma preoccuparsi, come siete stati così distante ultimamente." _She whispered in his ear. He pulled away and she frowned. "Promise that you'll listen to me as well? Even if it is only a little?"

He shrugged. He may love his sister very much, but that didn't mean he wanted her interfering with his life. She sighed, her shoulders sagging, then set her chin firmly, looking over to where Will had been leaning against the edge of the table. The space from which he was noticeably absent now. She looked at Ky.

"I'm not done with you yet."

"Celia," he said sternly, "No."

She shook her head. "If your're not going to listen to me, then I'm not going to listen to you." She stood up, gathering her skirts. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find Willim."

Ky watched her go and disappear into the crowd, apprehension set in his face. Celia, he knew, had a tendency to take things too far, and although she may be temporarily distracted by Will's disappearance, he knew she would be coming after him soon enough. His hand quested for his jacket pocket, hoping for a cigarette. He had begun smoking on the sly a little after he and Nick had called it off, and it had become something of a bad habit. He sighed, when his searching fingers found his pockets to be empty, encountering no worn cardboard boxes in the gaping holes they had gone exploring in. He rested his head instead on his palm and considered going to sleep. It wasn't like anyone but Celia cared anyways.


	45. Chapter 45

"Lady!" Will said, piping up a little bit away, but walking towards them, a small, sly smile on his face. Celia was behind him, Skirts bunched in her hand, a resigned, but determined look on her face. When she saw Clary and Jace, her eyebrows skyrocketed.

"Well, aren't we getting a little friendly over here."

Clary flushed and Jace sighed, annoyed at having been prevented from kissing her, she was sure. He turned to face her friends with the quiet endurance one might show when dealing with small children.

"Don't you two have anything better to do than annoy Clary?" He asked, lazy annoyance dripping in his voice.

Will considered, biting his lip and studying the ceiling momentarily, then shook his head. "Nope. Nothing comes to mind. Besides," He added, sly smile back on his face. "I consider it my sacred duty to ensure the Lady partakes at no time actions that may speak of a lesser dignity than she holds."

Clary smiled a little at that. Trust Will to say something very confusing and very distracting about his civil rights and sacred duties concerning his role in her life.

Jace looked at him. "What?"

"I mean proper decorum, good sir." Will gestured at Clary. "Such a gentlewoman as this should be courted as such. I think Victorian protocol should be set as a good standard."

"Victorian protocol?" Jace asked, disbelieving.

"Why, yes." Will turned to Celia. "Would you not agree Miss Cielisereni?"

Clary suppressed a laugh. Will was just being so absurd, it was hard not to. The only thing missing from his lecture was his top-hat and dragon headed cane; both artifacts that they had found in his basement as children and that Will valued greatly.

"Oh, I agree completely, Mister Aingealceol. These two ruffians are nothing short of scandalous."

Jace studied them for a moment. "You're both barking mad." He declared.

Will scoffed. "Barking mad? Who even uses that term anymore? So archaic!"

"And it's like what you're suggesting is not."

"Absolutely not," Will said, finding himself a seat in the small space between Jace and Clary.

Clary raised a hand to cover a giggle that threatened to escape from her mouth like a freshly released butterfly at the expression on Jace's face, which was nigh on murderous.

Will continued. "I'm only suggesting that you relax, take things slow." Will gave Jace a pointed look. "Giving your current condition, Mister Herondale, it might not be such a bad idea."

"Not in the least." Celia added with a serene dip of her head. Her face was blank, but Clary knew that inside, she was rolling all over the floor with amusement at Will's little performance.

Jace gave Will a look that said he was most definitely not amused. "Lightwood. I'm a Lightwood."

"You were born a Herondale, so it is Herondale I should call you. One should never forget their ancestry! Now, where was I?" He looked to Clary to clarify this last bit for him.

"Relax and take things slow," She said, a faint smile teasing on her lips.

"Ah, yes. Relax, there's no need to rush. PDA should be limited. Kissed and touched reserved, fleetingly for hands, and, as for outings," Will peered curiously at Jace. "I think promenades and carriage rides would do nicely."

"Promenades and carriage rides?" Jace asked incredulously.

Will looked for a moment and blinked for a few times, as if Jace was the one joking around and not him. "Well, yes."

Jace looked like he wanted to punch Will in the mouth. Multiple times. Until he was lying on the floor bleeding and begging for mercy.

"Just tell us why you even bothered coming over in the first place," Jace said through gritted teeth. Clary widened his eyes and made calm down gestured at him as she noticed his suit jacket smoking a little. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Please," He said.

"Well if that's what you wanted to know, then why didn't you ask earlier?"

"I did." Jace said, at last reconciled to the fact that Will wasn't going anywhere soon.

"Did you? I must not have heard it," Will replied. "To be honest though, I came over to ask the Lady if she wanted to dance with me."

Jace, who had begun to slouch against the back of the bench, suddenly sat up straight, back as rigid as an iron pole. "You _what_?"

"Came to ask the Lady is she wanted to dance with me. It's not like you have acquired some monopoly over her time all of a sudden just because she's dating you," He said calmly.

Jace stared at him for a few heartbeats. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Well I hardly say that's your choice. The Lady is a very individual person, you can't simply expect that she'll let you decide what she can and cannot do, who she can and cannot dance with." Will shrugged. "It's not your job. It's the Lady's and if you don't respect that, then you don't deserve to be with her."

Clary sucked in a gasp. Will, besides all his minor, jesting tasks he had set up for himself involving her, was very vocal about her rights when it came to others controlling them, but she had never heard him get this close to outrage as he was now. Especially with Jace, who Will knew had no special favor for him. Breath held she waited for the fight she was sure was coming between the two of them, the struggle for power and, she realized, her favor.

"Oh," Jace snarled, "So you're along to have a say in what happens in this relationship, but I'm not. Well that's just precious."

Will sighed. "You, my friend, need to learn how to take a joke." He stood up gracefully. "Besides," He said. "The Lady promised me she'd save me a dance."

Jace glanced at her, betrayal hot in his eyes. "What? No…"

Clary flushed and stood up next to Will. "I did, actually, because I thought you wouldn't mind because I've already explained how things are between us."

Jace stared at her as if he didn't understand what was happening in front of him, mouth slightly open in shock.

Clary took a deep breath. She realized, abruptly, that she was angry with him. She could have denied her promise and made good on it later, or any manner of other things, but she had stood up because she was furious with him for presuming to attempt to control what she was going to do. He had tried to make a decision for her, even after they had talked about respecting each other's actions. She needed to get away from him very quickly before she started crying.

"Alrighty then," Will said, sensing, as he always did, the tension in her body and the person to whom it was aimed. "Let's go then Lady."

Clary threaded her arm through Will's, heart thrumming in her chest, watching Jace as she did so, the fragile peace they had built between each other crumbling quickly in his face as his expression turned blank, carefully concealing his outrage. She swallowed, her throat suddenly very dry.

"Come on, Will." She said, steering them away and towards the center of the room. "We best not dawdle."

She could feel Jace's gaze burning into her back, as if he was transmitting his fire not through touch, but by sight and she was happy when she and Will slipped behind a tightly knit bunch of chattering Shadowhunters and he lost sight of her.


	46. Chapter 46

Celia sat down next to Jace as if she carried the wearied weight of the world's troubles on her shoulders. She sighed and looked at him, letting her decorum fall for a moment and slouching as she studied him. His face was emotionless and without expression, smooth as that of a Roman statue. Every muscle in his body was tense, like if he had suddenly decided to change into carved stone. It was clear along his tight jawline, and a forced calm in his eyes, in the way that, even under his tux jacked, she could see that his muscles were flexed, and how his hands, folded in his lap, clenched at each other like fists, knuckles white against his tan skin. She could practically hear his teeth grinding, and little wisps of smoke curled off of his head, hands, and shoulders. She sighed and looked back towards the crowd.

"You're smoking."

His shoulders sagged a little as he gave up some of his anger. Some, Celia noted, but not all.

"You shouldn't worry about Clary and Will." She said in the same off-handed voice.

Jace looked at her sharply. "Who said I'm worried about them?"

She raised her eyebrows. "It's written all over your face, especially in the way you're all tensed up."

Jace scoffed and turned away. "I'm not worried."

She looked at him sympathetically. Denial, it made the situation all the sadder. "Alright, Mister Gorgeous. If you say so."

Jace glared at her. "Don't call me that."

"What? Mister Gorgeous?"

His look said that that much should be obvious.

"Why?" She asked, closing her eyes. She felt him turn his gaze on her and study her as she had studied him. She felt s kindred spirit in him; the same sort of reckless soul and reckless heart pushing against the caged walls inside. Whenever she looked at him, she could see that same casual arrogance in the way he held his shoulders; a casual arrogance he used a solid shield to protect himself. It was all there, it was always there, the only time it ever started to go away was when he was with Clary. Celia remembered the first time she had ever seen him, the way he had glanced at Clary as if he was afraid and uncertain of how to react to her. She had liked that, the vulnerable self that was underneath. She had never been able to show herself to a person like that. She didn't think she ever would be able to. It was just too intimate.

"Because I don't like it. Why can't any of you call each other by your real names?"

Celia opened her eyes and returned his steady gaze. "Because," She said. "That's how we show we care. It binds us together; it's a reminder of all that's happened, the secrets we share and the lives we lived." She bit her lip and looked away. She felt like she was telling too much and she wanted to make this feel impersonal, like if it didn't matter, and she couldn't do that if he was held in her gaze. "It gives us an identity that makes us unique, it makes us _belong_." She was almost whispering at the end. She glanced quickly at him under her lashes, to see how he had judged what she had said.

Jace's face was surprisingly kind and a little curious. He laughed a little bitterly. "That's more than even Clary will tell me."

Her lips pulled up at the corners in a harsh smile. "Then you're not asking her the right questions."

He looked sour. "I shouldn't have to ask the right questions."

She looked at him and shrugged. "Sometimes, you just have to because Clary isn't used to sharing, to having to explain herself. Sometimes, you have to ask, even if you don't want to."

He shook his head. "What happened?"

Celia stared at him, incredulous. "We happened, obviously. Us, The Departed coming back. You fell in love with a shadow of Clary, who she was without us, and now you're getting hit with the full force of her true nature."

He didn't look angry, as Celia had expected him too, he just looked sad. Suddenly, Celia had the overwhelming urge to reach out to him and comfort him. It wasn't his fault that everything was so screwed up right now. She didn't pity him; Celia knew that he wouldn't appreciate that, she knew she wouldn't. Mostly she felt like she had to make amends for all the wrongs she had inadvertently done to him.

"Are you going to ask me to dance or what?" She asked.

He looked at her, shock outlined in his features. She knew she had commented on it before, if jokingly, but he really was very attractive. Something about him just drew you in. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Are. You. Going. To. Ask. Me. To. Dance?"

He looked from her, to the dance floor, filled with swishing skirts and gentry that most of the world and its society had forgotten, then back to her. "You're kidding." He said.

She huffed. "I'm not. I rarely do." She stood up. "Now come on, you will dance with me."

He looked up at her almost lazily, as if trying to decide if she was worth the effort, then seemed to come to the conclusion that perhaps, such an activity would do him no harm. He unfolded from his position gracefully, like a bird might stretch a wing. He was close enough to her that she could feel the heat radiating off of him and that, while he had to look sharply down, she had to bend her head deeply back, exposing her neck but lifting her chin haughtily all the same. His face, was, once more, was whipped clean of emotion, but then his mouth flicked up in a smile.

"I suppose it wouldn't take too much away from my valuable time."

She looked at him, assessing his cockiness with a gaze akin to that of a camp counselor who didn't want to put up with somebody's shenanigans. "Because sitting on a bench moping is a good application of it?"

He smiled a little more, and Celia felt that he liked this carefree banter as much as she did. "Why, naturally. I have to look good for all the girls, you know."

Celia glanced about in mock surprise. "Girls? What girls?" She looked back at him with large doe eyes. "I hate to break it to you, but I think I'm your only audience."

He laughed now, throwing his head back and started walking towards the center of the ballroom, leaving Celia to follow. "I should warn you," he said with a wry smile. "I've been known to make women swoon and be set ablaze with burning desire and passion just by being in proximity."

Celia chuckled as he placed his hand gently at her waist and took her other in his hand, as softly as if he were grasping a particularly delicate piece of glass, or perhaps the fragile wings of a butterfly. She laid her hand on his bicep, feather light, and he began to lead them, steadily, around the floor. "I shall have to be careful then, for I have no desire to depart from this world in such a fashion."

He grinned. "Would it not be dramatic, though? To go up as a burning cylinder of flame?"

"Yes," She said, resolutely. "Yes. I suppose it would be."


	47. Chapter 47

Will guided Clary through the waltz with the ease of a flowing river, their movements fluid and connected. He smiled. "I thought that you would have forgotten how to do this by now."

She shrugged a graceful rise and fall of her shoulders. "I couldn't help but remember, you spent so many hours ensuring I could, and to be honest, I always thought I was a little clumsy. When you left, then only person I had to practice with was Simon, and we were always falling over each other's feet."

"Simon, for all his outstanding qualities, has all the grace of a wind-up doll."

"It's gotten better since he was turned. It scares me sometimes how he can sneak up on me without so much of a sound, like if he's gliding along the ground, not walking."

"Yes, it is a bit disconcerting, isn't it?" Will mused. "You seem to managing just fine now though."

"You and I were always a good pair." She said simply.

"And you and Jace."

She looked at him, a little surprised that he would have made such a comment. "You think so?" She asked.

"I was watching you two earlier. The two of you looked like you fit together perfectly." He remarked.

Clary felt a little blood color her cheekbones. "Well then, I suppose it must be something to do with all the Shadowhunter training."

"Yes, I suppose." Will echoed.

They danced together for a few more moments in silence and Clary's thought turned to their younger years, moving around Will's basement at sleepovers and after school as he taught her to value all art forms, not just drawing, and attempted to show her how they were all kind of connected. She had adored him for that; she still did. He was always trying to show her all the little things in the world, the small, delicate pieces. He said that they had more value than the big ones. Every once in the while though, like now, the enormity of all the time they had spent away from each other; all the experiences that they'd had apart weighed down on them. They were still trying to fit together sometimes, and that felt unnatural and strange in a way she didn't know how to describe.

"Do you remember when we went to that Eccentric Visions exhibit at the Met?" He asked suddenly.

She looked at him and blinked. "Yeah. You took me as part of my birthday present. I almost picked the drawings one, but then chose that 'cause I liked the name. We did something like that every year. We'd go to a concert, then the art museum."

He smiled. "You were so happy, trying to explain everything to me, and I felt bad because I wanted to go look at the instruments."

Clary nodded. "You were always complaining about the lack of famous violas."

"That was a good day." Will said quietly, and Clary couldn't help but agree. Just like that, all of the tension was gone away.

"I always demanded to know why instruments were there in the first place and you always told me there were two reasons. One, because no two instruments are exactly alike in craftsmanship, and therefore unique sculptures unto themselves, and two, that the sound that they each produce individually is like painting with sounds. You said that you hated seeing this instruments never played because that's what they had been intended for."

He nodded. "That's right."

"I think I finally started figuring out your second reason a while ago, when I heard you playing with Jace."

He looked at her, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I always knew your music was beautiful, moving, really. I just never saw the pictures you were making with it before, and I think I'm finally starting to. They're fascinating and I'm sorry they can't be framed. You're an incredible musician, Will. I hope you know that. I hope you get the chance to make something of it."

He ducked his head, always naturally modest around her, his ears turning a bright crimson and the praise. "I only ever really wanted to play," he said quietly.

"I know," she said. "And that's what makes it all the more beautiful. You don't make it mechanically perfect. You make it quirky and special every time, so that it has the same unique quality as life."

Now he really blushed. "Lady…" he said.

She grinned. "Tired of me heaping compliments on your humble playing?"

He nodded bashfully and she let her eyes trail over his shoulder and soak in the world around them.

"I wish I had my sketchbook." She said mournfully.

Will laughed. "Of course you do. If I have my music, then you have your pictures. Which, by the way, are even more incredible than what I can do."

She shook her head. "Disagree strongly. If anything, we're of equal talent, if in our own fields."

Will just shook his head. He tilted his head back and listened to the music, humming along a little as he figured out the tune. There was the slightest of smiles on his face and Clary could tell that he was really enjoying himself.

"So what is it?" She asked, half teasingly.

His eyes fluttered open. "Beg pardon?"

"The waltz" She said, nodding over to the small ensemble that was playing whose music Will was so delightfully drinking in.

"Oh. Les Patineurs Valse, or 'The Skater's waltz'. Opus One hundred Eighty Three." Will said the number like if it was a very important part of the title. "By Émile Waldteufel. German fellow. The horn solo in the beginning is kinda annoying, but otherwise, it's an alright piece. The dynamics are interesting."

Clary raised her eyebrows. "God, you're such a dork."

"From the Dorkastra? Heck, yes."

She laughed. "OK. What about that whole 'da-da-dee-dee-dum, ba-bum-ba-bum' theme in waltzes? Aren't they all supposed to do that?"

Will groaned, throwing his head back. "That's the 'The Blue Danube Waltz', by Johann Strauss II. Probably one of the most famous waltzes ever."

"You sound peeved by its existence."

"It annoys me to no end."

"Why?"

"Because people hear it and suddenly think they know what classical music is supposed to sounds like. I hate that piece with a passion unlike any other on this good planet."

"Wow."

"Oh, Lady, you have no idea. And to be honest, I personally prefer the Artist's Waltz by Künstler Leben, at least, when it comes to playing. There's something about that piece that's just so intriguingly…right."

Clary shook her head. She knew she would never be able to understand and love Will's music the same way he did; to be able to marvel at and enjoy it like if it presented some glimpse at paradise here on earth, but she adored his adoration, and made an effort to understand what he did, just as he did the same with her. She resisted the temptation to lean her head on Will's chest and let the gentle rumble of his chest as he hummed along and the easy flow of the music dull her mind in this happy moment, but she did close her eyes a little. She heard Will chuckle.

"Taking the time to listen?" He asked gently.

She peeked one eye open at him. "I don't know, but it _is_ pretty."

Will looked at the orchestra with shining eyes. "It is, isn't it? You know, I'm not the only one who can paint with music. It just depends on how willing you are to listen."

She looked at him, studying all the ways he had changed since they had been kids. He may be the same, but he was still a little different. "Then show me," she said. "Teach me how to listen."


	48. Chapter 48

It was amazing, Jace noted to himself, how easy it was to get sucked into the dance and then released from it. The constant motion was like cogs working to make highly efficient machine, but it had the same general idea as some mosh pit at a club; people got sucked in, got released, pulled in, turned away. That, he supposed, is what dancing did though. That's what it felt like. He let his eyes flicker around the mass of people waltzing around the floor, looking for a flash of Clary's bright red hair, or Will's tall dark head rising above, but he couldn't catch sight of them. Perhaps they'd wandered off to talk to somebody. Perhaps not.

He looked at Celia again. She was always polite to him, but she seemed, at the same time, carefully vacant and distant, and more often than not, Jace got the internal feeling that she was laughing at him internally. It was a disconcerting feeling, one that he didn't really like. It made him think there was something to be worried about. He had always noted, in the back of his mind, that she was actually very beautiful. Not in the same way that Clary was; Clary had an image that was uniquely her own, and not quite like Izzy's either, although they both made people turn heads when they walked into a room.

Tonight, Celia was wearing a gown of dark gray silk. The skirt, unlike that of Clary's dress, which seemed to spring from her waist, eased out from her slim hips with the same smooth grace as a breath of wind. There was some sort of jewel or something around the bottom that made it look like she was on a cloud of shimmering mist when she moved. It was not a modest dress; it left her shoulder bare as well a large portion of her back. Her skin was decorated with marks for peace and grace, all leading to a focal point of a single silver locket that she wore around her neck. Her hair was done up, woven with ribbons and diamonds and she wore a set of elaborate earrings as well. Just looking at her told you how much she valued her appearance.

Her eyes had been roaming the room as well, for what, Jace didn't know, but when she felt his gaze, she turned her eyes, the same color gray as her dress, to his own and smirked slightly. She held her chin at a regal angle, and didn't so much as blush, as Clary had so often done, at his scrutiny. She was a beautiful girl who knew the power of her beauty and wasn't afraid to wield it.

"Do you like what you see?" She asked.

He raised his eyebrows as he twirled her. "I'm spoken for."

She laughed, almost cruelly. "So I've heard."

He stared at her. "Have you no restraint?"

She shook her head wickedly. "None. I've always been a bit of a wild spirit. Boundaries do not really occur to me."

Jace thought back to the night when he'd first met her. _Hello there, Mister Gorgeous. How about you and I hit the town and go be attractive together? _Totally unashamed. He had to admit, he liked that about her, that whole carpe diem, I-have-nothing-less-to-loose spirit. He thought about what Simon had said about her; how she was reckless, and intentionally so. He looked at her again, the way her burgundy painted lips turned up at the edges in a snarky sort of smile as she looked at something over his shoulder. She felt dangerous, like if he was holding dynamite. He had to admit, something about that whole idea was very appealing to him. Clary was safe ground, but Celia felt like uncharted water.

"So how did you even become part of the Departed?" He asked, suddenly curious.

She looked back at him, face blank. "Hmm?"

"The Departed. How did you end up part of that crowd?"

She threw her head back and laughed. He liked the way she laughed like that, like if the mere act of it was something to revel in. "I liked Will, and Mrs. A was my teacher. We hung out sometimes, and I didn't even know that the Departed existed until Clary and Simon came over one day while I was still around. We sort of all just took to each other and I was dragged into the group."

"Well that surprisingly unexciting."

"If I had the time, I'd tell you the entire story, but not right now. That, I think, will meet your expectations. Plus it demonizes Simon a little, and just by watching, I can tell you two don't really like each other."

"I think it's because we had to fight for Clary's attention."

"And her affections. Simon's been smitten with her since we were kids."

"And you said you liked Will?"

She nodded, and smiled a little. "A little bit, yeah. Not so much like as adored and admired though. I was a kid, and I'm only just starting to realize that there's a difference."

"Does he know?" He asked, genuinely interested about her answer.

Her expression changed to a brooding one, and a slightly sad. "Yeah. I guess we had something going after the Departed split up, but I could tell he just wasn't that in to me. I mean, he cared, but he didn't love me, you know? So we broke up."

"Sort of like what happened between Clary and Simon then?"

She grinned. "Exactly. You'll find that Clary and Will have a lot of the same experiences with their own version of the people. Trust me."

"That's…weird."

"That's Clary and Will for you. Never been two closer peas in a single pod."

"So how did they meet?"

She looked at him sideways; she had turned her head to look around the room again. "Do you really think that I'm going to tell you?"

He shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

She smiled at him. "I must say, you're intent on getting what you want."

"I'm conceited and I covet things. What can I say?"

"Well, I'm not saying anything." She said, scanning around again. "I'm sorry." She added, offhandedly.

"Will you at least tell me what happened between them?"

Celia chewed her cheek. "I don't know. That's their story to tell, and I know it scares them to know end. They don't like talking about it because they wish that it had never happened."

"So how does that have to do with Jocelyn hating Will?"

"She blames him for what the….results of their little misadventure was. I dare say that she might hate him more than she hates you."

"Well that's intense."

Celia shot him a look that he didn't understand, the turned away again, exposing her slender neck. "She only tolerates you because you make Clary happy, and she only hates you because you were raised by a man she despises. When is comes to Will, Jocelyn doesn't care about making Clary happy. She's just always been opposed to them being together because Will represented all the things that she wanted to hide Clary from in the first place seeping through anyways. And then…after what transpired, she justified that hate. That's why they can't see each other; if Jocelyn knew that Will was around again…"

"She'd kill him."

Celia looked at him again. "Exactly. Or, at least, she'd try. The point is that things would get ugly quickly between the two of them."

Jace looked up, and caught sight, just then, of Clary's mother talking to Mayrse by one of the many tables of food. "As curious as I am, I don't want that. I think we better keep her away from Carlyn, or any mention of her, too then."

Celia followed his line of sight. "You know, I think you might have a point there." She muttered.


	49. Chapter 49

Celia was just going to pull Jace after her off the dance floor when she noted Isabelle waving frantically at her, a very unhappy looking Alec in her clutches. So maybe their plan hadn't really extended beyond shoving the two boys at each other, but, hey, it was, at very least, a plan, and a plan was better than no plan, which is what they had had even as they had walked here. She faltered.

"Can you take care of this?" She asked Jace, chewing on her cheek.

Jace stared at her blatantly and she silently cursed herself and put her hand, gently, on his arm. Why would he want to? There was absolutely no reason for him to; it was obvious he didn't like Will to begin with, so why would he bother helping him unless she was dragging along, even if it would make Clary happy. She swallowed.

"Look, at very least, it would mean a lot to Clary, but if you don't want to help," She turned and pointed the couple that had been evading his notice while they had danced. "She's over there and the least you could do is explain that to her. Maybe get her to do something."

He nodded and looked over at Will's mother. "I'll tell her anyways, just to get her help."

Celia felt her shoulders slump and wondered why she had ever doubted him. Jace was an honorable person; of course he would do this. Clary's happiness so clearly meant everything to him and he would do anything to keep it. They did love each other, after all. Celia nodded.

"Alright. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

"Go where?" Jace called after her, bewildered, but she was already rushing to her new friend.

She grabbed Alec's jacket sleeve, crumpling the soft material. He looked very, very worried, and Celia realized that she and Isabelle were holding him in the exact same way, in the exact same place. He looked like if he was their prisoner of some sort, and Celia sheepishly released her grip.

"Come on," She told Isabelle. "This way."

Alec looked at her with lazily contempt eyes and a scowl on his face. "Why," he said, looking over at his sister, "Have you two decided to take me hostage? Iz, I was about to go to bed."

Izzy clucked her tongue. "Oh no, you don't." She said, dragging him after her as she followed Celia's shining form towards the Christmas tree at the head of the room.

"I don't agree with this," Alec protested.

"Doesn't matter." Celia returned.

"Who even are you?" Alec asked, incredulous that he was being kidnapped by a girl he barely knew.

"That's Celia," Izzy replied for her. "And stop complaining. Don't you get that we're going to the tree to give you a Christmas present?"

Alec raised his eyebrows at his little sister. "Why do I highly doubt that this so called 'Christmas present' will make me happy?"

Izzy sighed. "Trust me, it'll be _fine._"

Alec narrowed his eyes. "Izzy, if it's Magnus…"

Isabelle sighed. Over the past few weeks she had tried to orchestrate some reunions between the two of them, trying to get them to patch things up so that they could get back together again, but they never worked. The last time, angry words had been spoken all around, as well as Magnus chucking Alec's stuff back at him. That, Izzy thought, had been unnecessarily harsh, and had officially destroyed any good thought she had had of him.

"No," She said softly. "Not him."

Alec pulled away roughly. "I still don't see what the point of all of this is he said, not looking at her. She wanted to cry. He looked so broken, both physically and emotionally, as he repositioned himself over his crutches. He glanced up at her and she straightened out her expression before he could convince himself that there was pity in her eyes.

He sighed. "You're not going to let me off the hook for this, are you?" He asked.

She shook her head furiously.

He shrugged, or did his best to, as he was still on crutches, and hobbled past her. "Alrighty then. Let's get this over with."

Isabelle set her chin and followed his towards the tree, under which Celia's brother, and the salvation of both their brothers from their individual misery, waited.

[][][]

KY was snoring softly, having closed his eyes for a moment in a flash of boredom and accidentally fallen asleep.

"Kyros," He heard Celia say harshly.

He looked up, groggy. "Wha-?" And then his eyes caught sight of the attractive boy – Alec Lightwood – who he had last seen broken and bleeding, and somehow he just knew what she was planning behind those cool little gray eyes of hers, and Ky's blood froze in his veins. Then, they burned with an anger and a humiliation towards his sister, who, until this day, he would have sworn understood him and knew when to back off. Apparently not. Alec seemed to realize the same thing; he looked so weak already, supported by a pair of crutches, and now he was a deathly pale gray. Ky straightened up in his chairs.

"Cecelia," He said, matching her sharp tone. "NO."

Alec leaned over to Izzy and whispered desperately in her ear. "Izzy, I don't know what you're playing at, but it's not funny anymore."

"Kyros," Celia said calmly. "This is Alec."

Isabelle forced Alec into a seat and took away his crutches, so he wasn't about to walk away. Ky felt like if this was some sort of forced play date between to rival kindergarteners orchestrated by devious mothers who thought that everyone, at that age, should be able to get along.

Alec was avoiding looking at him, something Ky realized as he glanced at this new boy with all the wide eyed terror of a caged animal, and then he lost it.

"_Non posso credere che tu! Non ti ho mai dato ti congedo a interferire con la mia vita e ancora ti presume tuttavia che è vostro dovere di fare così! Allontanarsi da me, ti odio!_" Ky had risen up in his seat during his little rant, and he slumped back down now, exhausted and choking on his tears. He wanted to go home. He wished he had never come. Alec was still just sitting there, pale. He had finally raised his eyes to look at Ky. Isabelle was watching him too, tightlipped, and her gaze was skittering back to his sister to see how she would remedy this. Despite his wishes to be gone, though, and the fact that he had just screamed at her, Celia, wasn't done with him yet.

She looked at him with such vile hatred that he felt his breath catch in his throat. They never fought. They were always so kind with one another. Sure, they could be stubborn, and get annoyed, but fight? Really and truly scream insults at one another and dream up doors to slam in each other's faces? Such a thing had never happened in his life; until now he would have thought it I impossible and told anyone who suggested such that they were insane.

"_Pensi che è stato facile per me in questi ultimi mesi? Ti guarda soffrire? Sto cercando di farti felice e buttare indietro nel mio volto! Vorrei che non avevo provato a farvi felici! Non voglio essere tua sorella! Ti odio più!_"She spat back at him. Then she sucked in her breath, stuck out her chin in such a proud and regal manner as if to dare him to challenge her. He could only stare at her, shocked that she would say such things. She glared to him and stormed away, Isabelle glanced between the two boys with the same tight lips then chased after her, shouting her name. Ky wanted to do the same, to stand up, at every least, and call after her, but he couldn't find the strength. He pulled his hand down his face and looked over at Alec.

"I wish I had a cigarette." He said simply. "You wouldn't happen to have any, would you?" He felt so utterly spent. He just wanted to go home and cry; cry over how pathetic this night had been and his fight with his sister. Really he just wanted to cry about everything. Celia, he knew, would not. She would march angrily upstairs and throw her knives, knives he had taught her to handle. He chose not to consider the other ways she might go about letting out her rage and her sorrow; in the hands of strange men in stranger places.

Alec stared at him, face blank, but jaw tight.

"Right." Ky said. "Of course you don't."

And then somebody screamed.


	50. Chapter 50

Clary froze and beside her, Will stiffened. She had been about to laugh at a joke Will had just told her, but the noise died in her throat as she head it. A scream, bloodcurdling and all stilling. She was acutely aware of everything in the room; the sudden cease of music as the orchestra stopped playing and stood up, necks craning as they tried to figure out what was wrong, the turn of everyone in the room as they turned and looked at her and the person behind her, from whom the noise had originated. She felt herself turn a brilliant shade of scarlet, offsetting the green oh her dress. She turned her gaze slowly upward and her eyes, by chance, met Jace's, a little to Will's left. His face was drawn with a grim determination and a silent apology as his eyes flicked from her to the person behind her. Clary gulped and she swore the sound of it echoed in the silent room and glacially, she sluggishly turned around and faced her mother.

Jocelyn was panting, her cheeks flushed with fury and glaring at Clary with a ferocity her daughter had never known she possessed. A small part of Clary wanted to bow her head under such a gaze and walk back to her mother like a child. Then an iron will rose up in her and she instead stared defiantly back. Her mother had no right to object. She was grown now, and could speak for herself; she would choose her own friends, not her mother. She remembered Valentine, his snake soft voice coming over the line: _'From now on I'll be expecting a say in your choice of friends'_. She didn't want to believe that her mother could be like him, but obviously, it wasn't beneath her.

Besides, it wasn't Will's fault what happened. If anything, Will had tried to save her. If she closed her eyes, she knew that she would see the desperate, wild look on his face as he realized that he couldn't. She felt strangely calm. Will was right, her mother was wrong. She was not going to stand by and let Jocelyn take away her best friend again. Her mother had always been grasping at traws to get rid of him and the incident had been just the example she needed. Clary may not have understood her mother's dislike before, but now she did, and she saw also that it no longer had a reasonable base. Her mother had no reason to hate Will now besides her own bias, and Clary wasn't going to let that factor control her life.

"Mother." She said simply.

Jocelyn marched towards her, rage barely controlled. She grabbed Clary's arm roughly and looked over Will with contempt she didn't even try to contain. "Come with me now, Clarissa." She hissed, still looking at Will. She started to drag Clary away, throwing "Stay AWAY from my daughter over her shoulder at Will, who flinched as if he had been slapped, and Clary pulled away. She didn't need to look to know that he mothers grip was imprinted in red on her bare arm.

"No." She said. Quietly, but powerfully. "I won't go." She walked back to Will, eyes scanning the crowd. She saw Will's mom, looking pale, wanting to do something, but now sure what against the cold wall of Jocelyn's bigotry. Luke was moving closer as well, and Clary relaxed. Luke had always been level-headed about the situation. He had never blamed Will, if anything, he championed him.

Will looked at her, fear in every line of his body and she slid her hand into his, locking eyes.

_It'll be alright,_ she promised silently_ just stay with me._

He swallowed and nodded and she mentally checked herself. She was practically shaking with terror. She drew herself up, trying to be taller and wishing desperately that she was. She was going to be strong. She would be alright.

She saw, out of the corner of her eye, the rest of the attending Departed draw up around the edges of the circle that had formed around the opposing people even as Luke drew even with Jocelyn. They looked back and forth between her and her mother, then moved quickly to stand beside she and Will. Jace slid his hand into her free one and Celia stepped in front of them defensively. Isabelle rested her hand on Clary's shoulders, Clary noted with some surprise, and Ky, with Alec balanced on his crutched behind him, turned his head back and forth, as if to say no, taking in what was happening, before moving swiftly to mutter something in Will's mother's ear.

She nodded swiftly then went to Jocelyn's side, gesturing just as fiercely as Luke was; pointing at the Departed, who Jocelyn was shooting degrading glances at, and speaking quickly in a voice too low for Clary to hear.

She realized her throat was dry and she swallowed, wishing she had something to drink, gaze settled on the trio of arguing adults as they tried to determine her fate. She felt a rolling in her stomach as it turned over and she swore that if she didn't get out of that room, the scrutiny of everyone's gaze, that she would throw-up right then and there.

The argument in front of her seemed to finish even as Mayrse stepped up and demanded of Luke information behind what was happening. Will explained things tensely and Clary watched the horror grow on Mayrse's face as she looked over at the grouping of children standing a few yards away. Her mother stared at her with a malice Clary had never before known. Beside her, Carlyn tried, in vain, to get Jocelyn to see reason, to drop the argument, or, at very least, take it somewhere else. Clary could see the pleading, imploring look on her face, and her stomach twisted. The hard look her mother held could know no kindness or mercy. Clary felt her teeth clench in audacity and scorn.

"Come on," she muttered to her small band of allies. "Let's get out of here."

And they followed her as she turned heel and walked away. The party was over; it was time to leave.


	51. Chapter 51

Clary was weary to her bones. She wasn't sure what it was, but something about the whole ordeal had just left her drained. She remembered stalking out into the Institute's labyrinth of corridors, still feeling that rolling sickness and now holding back a cascade of tears, getting lost and how Jace had gently pointed her in the right directing after letting go of her hand. How he had softly tapped her under the chin and how he promised that he would stay and make sure everything was smoothed over. How he had kissed her and left and how she had fallen, suddenly weak at the knees into Will's arms and passed out.

Her eyes peeled back and the evening sky greeted her. She smiled as she stretched and rolled over, bumping into Celia, who had changed out of her dress into a plain t-shirt and a pair of running shorts. Celia groaned when Clary hit her and threw her arm over her eyes, turning her back to Clary.

"Don't wake me up yet," She grumbled. "I'm too tired."

On Clary's other side, Will started blinking back sleep. "Lady?" He asked, sitting up on his elbows and rubbing his eyes with one hand. He was wearing a faded orange shirt with a duck in giant sunglasses on it. Clary smiled. She had made him that for his thirteenth birthday.

Her stomach grumbled. "I'm hungry." She announced.

Celia flipped over so that she was facing the other two. Clary noted in the back of her mind that Celia's mascara was smudged around her eyes like if she was a raccoon and that the imprint of it was probably on the pillow she'd been using.

"I want some food too." She said sleepily, her mouth filling her face as she yawned.

Will sat up, nodding, and stretched, then got out of the bed and pulled some clothes out of the drawer. "I bet my mom's lying in wait downstairs, so once we're all dressed, we'll sneak out the back window and down to the garage. Is the Valk good for breakfast?"

Clary waved her hand in assent and, for the first time, realized that she was no longer wearing her dress. Instead she had on a plain, large, white shirt with a picture of a frog eating what looked like a fishing pole. Beneath it was written: "Brilliance Begins at the Frog".

"I changed you out of your clothes," Celia explained, sliding out of bed. "You dress is hanging up in the bathroom and the shirt is Will's. The shorts though, are mine. Please give them back later.

Celia stretched, pulling herself up long and slim, a movement that reminded Clary of the grace of a cat or a dancer, then plopped down on the floor to pull a duffle bag out from under the bed.

They all had emergency supplies at each other's houses for nights like these, when they decided to have a little sleepover. Clary didn't mind sharing a bed with any of the Departed; they'd all been doing it for years, so the idea of it didn't feel so weird to her. She sat up and watched as Celia triumphantly produced two pairs of skinny jeans, another shirt and a jacket.

"Do you have doubles of everything?" Clary asked, grinning at her friend's preparations.

"Yes, but I'm already wearing this shirt number one, and this is number two, so you'll have to make do with that one." She threw the slightly smaller of the two pairs of jeans at Clary. "Here, these should fit, if not exactly. We're about the same size, you and me."

Clary slid off the shorts and tossed them to Celia, then pulled on the jeans, which were a little tight in the thighs, but plenty loose in the butt and calves. She sighed. She and Celia might be alike in height, but obviously not in shape. Celia examined her with a critical eye then shrugged.

"Best I can do under the circumstances. Here," She said, handing Clary the soft cotton jacket and pulling on another leather one, which had been on the floor by the door. "It's a tad bit chilly."

Clary nodded in thanks and pulled her hair up in a quick ponytail, brushing her fingers through the tangled strands. Celia peered at her.

"Is my face a mess? I feel like it is."

Clary nodded. "What about me?"

Celia shrugged. "You're fine. You're always fine." She knocked on the bathroom door. "Willim, we're decent. Now come out so I can wash my face."

The door swung open, framing Will, who was still pulling on a shirt over his sleep-mused hair. For a moment, Clary caught sight of his smooth, silvery skin, so different from Jace's gold.

"Alright," He said. "Go on and wash your face Madame Mask."

Celia scowled at him and ducked in under his arm. Will left the door open as he came and sat down on the bed next to Clary.

"I'm so, so, sorry, Lady." He said softly, not looking at her, his head bent instead to stare at the floor. The way he hung his head reminded Clary of someone coming before a priest and asking for a blessing.

Clary looked at him, studying with a flick of her eyes the smooth curve of his neck that reminded her so often of a swan, the black hair that curled up at the nape of his neck because it was, as always, a bit too long, and the way if fell across his forehead and into his eyes and the shadows his lashed painted over her cheeks. She could barely see the dazzling blue of his eyes. She knew that she could draw him more easily than anyone else in the world. He was as familiar to her as her own skin, more so, it felt like sometimes. She knew everything there was to know about him and him, her. She laid her hand gently on his arm, and at last he turned his sapphire eyes up and looked at her.

"You have nothing to apologize for," She said in matter of fact tone of voice.

His shoulder's slumped. "Don't I?"

She shook her head. "Never. I don't blame you for anything. I can't. You're… my Will, doing so is beyond me." She smiled a little at that and he pulled her in to hug her.

"Yes, I suppose I am your Will, aren't I?"

She stayed there for a few moments, resting in the safe sanctuary of his arms, rejoicing in the feel of his hands softly stroking her back and his chin tucked over her head before pulling away, reaching for her phone.

"I'm going to call Simon," She said. "Why don't you call Johnny and Lars? We should all get together to talk about this."

He nodded and reached for his own cell as Celia emerged from the bathroom, wiping the last traces of make-up of her face with a plain white wash cloth. She looked so different without the familiar accents on her eyes and lips that Clary almost did a double take. She didn't think she had ever really seen Celia without the usual delicate mask that she wore, except for when they had been young, and it was strange. It made her look so much more innocent and less likely to be dangerous. It showed the few stray freckles she had dotting her olive skin.

Celia grinned at the two of them. "Ready to go?" She asked.


	52. Chapter 52

Simon sat up on his elbows and looked over to Izzy, who was lying on the bed beside him, wearing an old Justice League shirt of his. He grinned a little. She had showed up, quite unexpectedly, at his doorstep after the party last night; it had seemed no one wanted to be alone or where they were supposed to be after the evening's trials. They hadn't done anything, just slept, but he still couldn't believe that there was a girl in his bed that he hadn't known since he was seven and thought of him more as a sibling than a boyfriend. He shook his head at the wonder of it then looked around to see what had woken him up.

On the floor beside his bed, his phone buzzed again, muffled by the stained carpet. He reached over Izzy and picked it up, holding it to his ear and whispering so as not to wake her.

"Simon?" Clary sounded exhausted at the end of the line.

He yawned, and started getting up; trying to avoid waking up Izzy, anticipating what was coming. "Meeting at the Valk?" He asked, rubbing his eyes and reaching for clothes to change into.

"Yeah. How soon can you get there?"

He sighed and looked at Izzy. She looked so different when she was asleep, like if some of her razor sharp exterior was stripped away. It was intimidating in a different sort of way. He shook his head and turned away, pulling on the new clothes. "Give me ten minutes. I'm at the apartment."

He could envision Clary nodding to herself. Someone said something in the background, but to Simon, it sounded like a mumble. "Who are you with?" He asked, suddenly curious.

"Celia and Will. Celia and I were both reluctant to go home, as you might have guessed."

"Yeah," he said, looking for a piece of paper to scrawl a quick note to Izzy, explaining where he went. Failing in finding one, he grabbed her phone and opened a new message, typing it in and then putting it by her head, where she would find it when she woke up. He cracked open his bedroom door and looked around the apartment. He had heard Jordan come in late last night after spending the evening on a date with Maia. When a quick glance revealed he wasn't about to disturb his probably sleeping roommate, he stepped out and shut the door gently.

"Iz was the same," he replied.

Clary sounded surprised. "Izzy? Isabelle's with you? Why didn't she stay at home?"

Simon shrugged, and then realized that of course Clary couldn't see him. He grabbed his keys of the counter. "I don't know. She looked terrible and uber tired."

"So what happened?"

"Nothing. She just kinda collapsed in my bed after changing out of her dress."

"She was still wearing her dress?"

"Yeah. It was the same one she wore the Ironworks party. She looked really nice." He opened up the front door and stepped out. "Do you want me to wake her up and bring her with?"

"NO!" Clary's voice was harsh. "Sorry, it's just, it's a Departed issue? You know?"

Simon sighed and tromped down the stairs, pretext of being quiet forgotten. "I guess so. I still don't understand why you won't let them in, they deserve it, after all we've been through together."

Clary sounded sad. "I suppose so, but I guess I don't know how to even begin explaining the history between all of us. Plus it's not something you learn; you have to live it."

He chuckled. "Plus there are some things you don't want to even try to explain to your boyfriend."

"It's in the past now," she protested. "So it doesn't matter anymore. We've both moved on."

Simon snorted. "Because that makes a whole lot of a difference."

"He'd blow it way out of proportion. Trust me. He doesn't need to know anything." Simon could practically hear her shaking her head as he opened up the door and hesitated on the street; trying to decide between walking and taking a cab. The sun was barely peeking through the streets and the only people on the sidewalk were bleary eyed business workers, off to another day in their cubicles. He suppressed another yawn and decided to walk; at the very least it would wake him up and it wasn't like the cold was bothering him anyways.

A light snow had fallen the night before and even though foot traffic was pretty low, already it was covered in footprints whispering of the people who had come and gone when no one was watching. He smiled a little to himself as he looked at it; remembering winters spent in the past with the Departed. Will had always put together free-for-all snowball fights with them that had somehow escalated, every single time, into giant battles including tons of strangers. Celia had always insisted on making snowmen and snow angels; this was her favorite time of year, she called snow "nature's sparkles."

"What are you thinking about?" Clary asked, and Simon realized that he hadn't hung up yet with a start.

"Nothing. Just winter with the Departed, you know?"

"Yeah," Clary sounded happier. "We always had so much fun didn't we? Listen: we're here. Where are you?"

"Almost there," he replied. The building that housed the Flying Valkyrie rose up a block or so away. "So what happened last night anyways? Iz didn't really cover the details."

Clary was silent for a long moment. "My mom saw Will. She screamed. I defied her."

"Did all hell break loose?" He asked, curious about what had happened, but felt his blood chill at the idea of it and his stomach flip over as well. He had known that this would happen eventually, but he, like Clary, assumed that it would be farther into the future, and had talked himself into believing that that Mrs. Fray would have found it in herself to forgive him. That was obviously not what had happened.

"No." Clary said. "Somehow it was worse. Everything just went…still. I didn't stick around too long after that."

He swallowed. "Do I want to know the exact details of what happened?"

Clary considered this for a second. "No. No, you definitely don't."

"Alright," he said, coming up to the front doors of the building. "I'm here. See ya in a sec." He hung up the phone and started to pull open the door when he got the sense that someone was watching him. He turned around, eyes dashing across the sidewalk across the street, but no one was there; only the crowd of people on their way to work, becoming a gathering crowd as the morning grew a little older. He still couldn't shake the idea, but he shooed it away. HE was just jumpy for some reason, that was all. He slid inside the warm interior and started up the stairs. Across the street, on the roof of one of the buildings, a vampire smiled in malicious glee.


	53. Chapter 53

Alec trudged down the stairs of the Institute after training with Carlyn for an hour. HE was ready to get some dinner—even if it would be achieved alone. Jace had gone out with Clary; partially just so they could see her, and partially so they could talk about Jocelyn's spaz attack at the Christmas Ball and Izzy was off somewhere doing something with someone. He hadn't really been paying attention, just wallowing in his own misery. He couldn't wait for the Holiday season to be over. He had been staring at the gift-wrapped present he had been planning on presenting to Magnus in his room for weeks now, unable to get rid of it but not wanting to keep it either. He had been thinking about dropping it at his ex-boyfriend's doorstep and running in a desperate attempt to get the warlock to take him back, but after their last meeting, Alec had determined that that was not going to happen. Ever. Maybe he would set it on fire and throw it off the roof. That would be fun. At the very least, it seemed it would relieve him of some of his pent-up anger.

A single figure was lounging in the hallway and Alec hesitated. It felt weird, having all these people coming and going in his home all of a sudden. He was used to the hallways being empty and silent. The new arrivals, who Jace always referred to moodily as "Those Departed Kids" were always around, and they tended to be very noisy. They were the last people he wanted to put up with right now. He briefly considered going back upstairs and hiding in his room or in the conservatory, but it was too late; the figure, a boy, Alec realized, looked up from their phone or book, or whatever their head had been bent over, rolled their shoulders as they stood up straighter and stared right at him. Alec's heart thrummed in his chest. It was the same guy that Izzy had tried to set him up with. He really wished he could turn tail and flee, but that was no longer an option.

Alec progressed slowly down the stairs, eyed trained on the boy—what was his name again?—and the boy's trained on him.

"Hi" he said, holding out his hand. "Kyros Cielisereni. Alexander Lightwood, right?"

Alec shook Kyros' hand and nodded. "Most people call me Alec," he confessed.

Kyros smiled easily. "And most people call me Ky." His face darkened like some rain cloud over the sun. "Only a few choose not to."

Alec nodded awkwardly and tried to think of some sort of small talk he could make. He had never been good at that sort of thing. Magnus, he thought with a pang, had always said he was good at listening, although Magnus was one of the few people he had always thought he could talk freely with. He firmly pushed aside the creeping cold fingers of hurtful thoughts that crept into the back of his mind to comment on that.

"I'm waiting for my sister, Celia." Ky blurted out. He seemed as uncomfortable about this whole situation as Alec was.

Alec figured that was the girl that had been with Izzy the other night and had grabbed him so abruptly. The one that had screamed at Ky in what he assumed was Italian. Ky's last name suggested as much anyways. "Does she have training…?" Alec started.

Ky shook his head. "Yeah. Mrs. A's been teaching us since we were kids."

"Cool." Alec said, unsure of what else to say.

Ky shrugged, "Guess so."

Alec was silent for a moment as he took a moment to scrutinize the other boy. He had been too wrapped up in the horror of the idea that Izzy would seriously put him on the spot like that to really look at Ky. He was, Alec realized, actually very handsome, if subtly. He had dark brown hair that curled in a nice way around the edges. His olive skin was tan, although it was the middle of the winter, and a few freckles stood out along his nose. His eyes were and attractive dark grey; the same color of storm clouds and with the same sort of depth to them as well. His dark lips were just a few shades darker and redder. He was tall; about Alec's height, but not towering and slim like Magnus had been. Just looking at him, Alec could see that Ky was built to be a warrior with sleek muscles lining his body. He realized that Ky had probably registered he was staring by now and turned his head, trying to think of what to say to follow that up.

He was saved by the flouncing appearance of Celia. "Hi." She said, bounding up to her brother. She turned an appraising eye to Alec and looked at Ky. "You two get along alright?"

Ky shrugged and sucked his cheek. Celia looked like she had expected such a reaction. She turned to Alec. "Do you want to come to dinner with us." She asked, although it sounded more like a command. Alec resisted the urge to shrink back and pretend he wasn't around. He really wished he had gone to hide while he still had the chance. She grabbed his arm. "Come on. I'll take your silence as a yes. You too, Ky." She called over her shoulder.

Ky and Alec exchanged a very bewildered look as they slid into the elevator and Celia stabbed the button for the ground floor, filling the air with chatter more easily that Ky and Alec had on their own.

"Ky's an _actor._" She was saying. "Is there anything you like to do for fun?"

Alec hated being put on the spot like this and squirmed a little. "Cook, I guess. And I've been reading a little."

Celia nodded approvingly. "Reading. That's good. What books?"

Alec stared at her, willing her to leave him alone. "I don't know." He said meekly.

Celia blinked at him then pointed her thumb at her brother. "You have worse social skills than he does, do you know that?"

"CELIA!" Ky said, obviously a little scandalized.

Celia shook her head. "Just saying. They reached the ground floor and Celia pushed them out. "Come along, misfits. One of you is treating me to dinner at Taki's." She marched past them, not bothering to see if they followed, just assuming that they would.

Ky looked at him pitifully. "Sorry. She can be a bit…abrupt sometimes."

Alec smiled slowly. "It's fine. It's actually kinda refreshing."

Ky laughed, a sound as warm and rich as a good red wine. "It's certainly that, if nothing else."

Celia turned and looked at them over her shoulder, annoyed, at the sound. "Come on, Slow Pokes. I'm_ starved_."

Kt shrugged and Alec reciprocated the action. Together, they followed after the young girl into the frigid air of the winter city.


	54. Chapter 54

Will played through the Mendelssohn. He always liked this piece; the way the two parts seemed to size each other up at the beginning before embarking on a long term dance. They complemented each other while retaining some certain individuality that gave them a wonderful personality.

He lowered his viola and eyed Jace who was sitting at the piano.

"Alright." He said.

Jace gaped at him. "Alright? I thought it was practically perfect!"

Will shrugged. "We both have a few bugs."

Jace blinked at him. "You have got to be kidding."

"I'm not." He walked over and leaned, pointing out certain measures. "This could be smoother and I'm messing up transitioning here, so we come out…not together"

Jace shook his head. "Fine. Where do you want to start from then?" He asked, getting ready to play.

Will pulled back and shook his head. I can only play for so long, yeah? Besides, the Lady won't like it if we put a monopoly on each other's time."

Jace looked at Will strangely as he watched the other boy pack up his viola with affectionate fingers and swing it onto his back. He could never really get a good reading on him. Sometimes, he was agreeable, other times, he wasn't. Will raised his violet blue eyes to meet Jace's puzzled stare.

"Ready to go?" He asked.

Jace nodded and stood up, following Will out of the room and into the hallway. He tried to figure out something to say that would allow for polite conversation. "So do you have any plans tonight?" He asked at last.

Will nodded. "Movie Night with the Departed."

Jace stopped and put his hand on Will's arm. "Hold it. Clary never said anything about that."

Will shrugged off Jace's hand and turned to face him. "I don't see why she would have deemed it necessary to do so. I mean, it's not like you need to know everything about her life."

Jace's stomach roiled. It was times like these that he really wanted to punch the black-haired boy somewhere it would hurt. He didn't like how close the two of them were. It made him uncomfortable and he wondered if Caesar felt that way sometimes when he saw Brutus and Cassius bending their ears to one another while they plotted. He wished that it didn't have to be like this. He wished that the Departed had never come back. He usually managed to tolerate, and even like, Will well enough, but the guy just didn't seem to understand that Clary and Jace were taking part in a relationship that had nothing to do with him.

"We had plans." Jace shot out.

Will's eyebrows flicked to his hairline in an instant. "She never told me. Besides, this is a standing commitment."

Jace scowled. "Doesn't matter. We had plans. She can't just bail on me."

Will dropped a shoulder in a half shrug. "Take it up with her, not me. Like I said, I had no idea. She knew that this was happening and didn't utter a peep in protest."

Jace scrunched his brow in thought and crossed his arms over his chest as he started walking with Will again. "Why would she do that?" He mused.

Will sighed. "I don't know. Normally, she's all over being with you and not letting the Departed interfere with it."

Jace looked at him funny. "Really?"

Will nodded. "Yeah. She actually likes you, don't you know? Maybe even loves you."

"Why do you say the love with a maybe?"

Will smiled wryly. "The Lady is careful with her heart. I think she's waiting for it to get broken sometimes." His smile dropped and his voice turned sober instead of light humored. "It makes me sad."

Jace was confused. "She's certainly never seemed that way."

Will looked straight down the hallway instead of meeting Jace's gaze. "I don't know how it is between you two intimately. She tells me what she deems necessary and leaves out all the details she's still considering. But I do know my Lady." He sounded determined all of a sudden as he turned and looked at Jace now, jaw set in a hard line. "And she's afraid of falling and getting hurt. Trust me, I of all people know."

Jace stopped even though Will walked a few strides before noticing and turning to face him. He stared at him, waiting to say what was on his mind, and Jace stared back for a long moment before he whispered the thought that had just popped into his head. "And why would you know?"

Will's face dropped and closed off all at once. "Because something went wrong and I was unfortunate enough to find out too late about something I should have realized all along."

Jace blinked as another realization hit him. "You would do anything for her, wouldn't you? That's why it kills you that Jocelyn can't stand you." Jace said, thinking back Christmas night. "Because you know it makes her unhappy."

Will bit his lip and looked over his shoulder and back down the hallway, towards the stairs and the door. He turned back to Jace and he swallowed. "I'm on your side, remember that Herondale. As long as you make my Lady happy, I'm on your side. I am undyingly devoted to that girl, and the moment she cries foul, you better watch your back."

Jace stood frozen in the hallway, shocked by Will's words, as the other boy turned and walked away, sliding out of his sight as he tromped down the stairs. He stood there still as he heard soft voices rise from that direction, mulling over what had just happened and not quite sure how to react. He was only unlocked by Clary's appearance as she walked towards him, red hair like the soft fingers of sunset falling around her face. He didn't realize how close she was until she kissed him, light as a feather, on his cheek.

"Hi. You ready to go?" She asked. He voice was as airy as her kiss. He brow furrowed at his distant expression and he shook his thought away and smiled, kissing her gently again, to ease her mind.

"Of course." He said. "Let's go."

She smiled and nodded, sliding her fingers into his, as they walked out together.


	55. Chapter 55

Clary picked at her food, head resting in her palm. Jace said something and she smiled and nodded. She was truly sorry she wasn't giving him her undivided attention, but she justified it with the fact he had been the ones to make plans without consulting her first. She wondered what the Departed were up to. She felt like she was missing a limb; knowing that they were doing something without her. That had never really happened before and it felt so undeniably wrong she didn't know how to react. Her shoulder sagged. She also couldn't just abandon Jace. As much as she had been swept up by the arrival of the Departed, she still loved him. Her eyes flicked up to his and realized that he had noticed that her mind was elsewhere.

"What?" She asked, straightening up and wrenching her mind away from what had happened at their last movie night.

"Clary." He sighed. "I said that they still don't know where Sebastian is and they don't think they'll find him soon. It's been over a month now."

A cold feeling spread through the pit of her stomach. "Oh." She mouthed, unable to bring find the strength to make a sound.

He looked at her grimly and stretched his hand across the table to grab hers. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "But I thought…"

"I know." He said.

She squeezed her eyes shut. That had certainly made all other thoughts flee from her mind. "Why?" She whispered.

"Because they think Maureen might be a more attainable target right now, and she's definitely revealed herself as a threat; untold amounts of mundies attacked and killed, and even a Shadowhunter."

She nodded. "Alright. I guess that makes sense." Her eyes snapped open. "It's just the thought that he's out there—"She looked away, feeling the sudden knot in her throat seeming to pound as tears verged to break.

He broke his hand away from hers and slowly reached to touch her face, as if uncertain what would happen when he did. His skin slid smoothly over hers and she closed her eyes so that he couldn't see them shine with moisture when he turned her face to his. She leaned into his touch; craving a sense of comfort to tie her down after the news flash that had suddenly sent her reeling. He leaned across the table and suddenly his lips were brushing a hairs' width away from her own. She met him halfway and completed the kiss, wondering if he could taste the bitter salt that had come with her tears when they started streaming down her face. He pulled away first, a sadness in his eyes that Clary had a feeling had nothing to do with the topic of their conversation. He suddenly looked very, very old.

"I'm not giving up though." He said.

She smiled a little and picked up her fork again, managing to eat a little bit more. "I want to help." She said.

He picked up his soda and studied it as if it held all the answers to his problems on the label. "Are you sure?" He asked, voice cracking a little. "Lately I just haven't been sure…"

He trailed off and looked at her with eyes that were full of jagged pieces and suddenly Clary understood his sorrow. Ever since Will had shown up he hadn't been sure of them. She wondered what they had been talking about earlier that had him so uncertain. She thought of Simon saying that Jace's ego was like a bomb shelter and wondered if Will was the bomb that would be able to break it. This time, she reached across the table that separated him and clutched at his hand.

"I will always stand by you." She promised solemnly. "I mean it."

He smiled a little at that and squeezed her hand. "I know. I don't know what I was thinking." He let go and took a sip of his drink. "You seemed distracted though." He said, training his eyes on her face.

"Oh," She said, withdrawing her hand. "I, um—"

"Miss your Departed?" He asked, setting the glass down.

She scratched the back of her neck. "Yeah."

"Movie night?" He asked.

She nodded sheepishly.

He smiled a little. "You look like you could use something to get your mind off of this. Do you want to go meet up with them?"

Clary started. She forgot sometimes that it was just as easy for he read her as easily as she read him; even when she thought she was hiding what she was thinking. "No," She protested weakly. "I'm having fun. Really."

Jace shook his head morosely. "We both know that a lie, Fray. Go on, catch up with your friends. I'll take care of things here."

Clary nodded, admitting defeat, and grabbed her purse. "Do you want to come with?" She asked, brow furrowed as she tried to configure one last way to salvage their night.

He smiled at her as if he already knew that they both knew the answer to that. "Nah. It's a Departed thing, and we both know that I," He said, gesturing to himself. "Am not quite Departed."

She shrugged a little and stood up. "I'm sorry that it's like that." She smiled at him wickedly. "We'll have to change that."

He smiled at that, but his eyes said that he didn't believe her. "If that's what you want," He said. As she walked past he grabbed her arm and held her hand to his face. When she looked down at him curiously, he kissed her wrist. "Don't forget to come back to me eventually," He muttered softly.

If she heard him, she didn't show it and he let go of her with a sudden movement, she moved away without, it seemed, a second thought. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the top of the chair, listening to her leave. He heard the door shut and then the waitress was there.

"You done, love?" She asked, hand on her hip.

"Yeah," he said miserably. "Yeah, I guess I'm done." And then he stood up and walked to the counter to pay for a date he had never gotten a chance to finish properly.


	56. Chapter 56

Ky ducked his head and chuckled. He distantly remembered Celia saying something about how Alec Lightwood had no sense of humor, but they had been walking around talking for a while now, and it couldn't have been more apparent to Ky. True, it was dry and kind of snarky, but it was still funny. Alec grinned at him sideways and Ky felt a warm sort of glow that he couldn't really identify. Alec looked distinctly pleased that he was able to coax this sort of reaction out of Ky.

"Well," Ky said, coming to a stop. "That was certainly more fun than I thought it would be.

Alec nodded at the front door of the brownstone in front of him. "Is this you?"

Ky nodded and looked behind him. "Yep." He saw a light shining through the curtain in the front window. "Looks like Ceals is still up." He turned back to Alec, unsure of what to do next. The had just met, really, but a handshake seemed to stiff, and it wasn't like they had suddenly decided to start dating, so a kiss anywhere would totally not be appropriate. "So…" He said.

Alec rocked back on his heels a little awkwardly and Ky could tell that he was running through the same dilemma in his own mind. He also looked more than a little uncertain. "We should, uh," He tugged on his ear. "We should do this again sometime."

Strangely, Ky realized that he had been hoping that the other boy would ask him just that. "Yeah, totally. Do you want my number or something?"

"Sure that'd be great," Alec said, obviously relieved that Ky had taken his suggestion graciously.

Ky relinquished his phone and Alec handed his over as well. They entered their contact information in silence for a few moments before trading again.

"Well," Alec said, holding himself like if he was considering giving Ky a hug goodnight.

That was acceptable and Ky leaned in to encourage the action. After a few moments they broke it off and Ky jogged up the steps, Alec lingering at the bottom and looking a little meek. Ky waved after he unlocked the door and Alec waved back then started walking away. Ky watched his receding back for a moment curiously before slipping inside, shaking his head in wonder.

Inside, Celia was draped across an overstuffed velvet green armchair in the corner of the room; nose buried in a copy of _Les Misérables _that was the size of her head. She looked up and smiled when she saw her brother enter and marked her book with what appeared to be a shoelace.

"How was your night?" She asked, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

He plopped down on a carefully cross-stitched footstool that he was sure had been in the family for years and shrugged. "He seems like an alright sort of guy. Thanks for abandoning us like that, by the way. We had to ask Kaelie to check the girls' bathroom. It was very…embarrassing when it became apparent that you had left without saying anything."

Celia waved her hand in denial. "I texted you. You should have checked your fun, and admit it: you had fun."

Ky shook his head, but he was grinning like a schoolboy. He really had enjoyed himself. Alec was a cool guy and really interesting once you got him talking.

Celia noticed and her face slanted to match the mischievous appearance of a troublesome sprite. "So what did you guys do?"

"We just walked around the city," Ky confessed.

Celia blanched. "You're kidding me. Did you even kiss at all?"

Ky looked scandalized. "_Celia_," he said. While they seemed to have forgiven each other for the whole Christmas party incident, he was still unsteady with her trying to set him up with other guys. He just wasn't ready to move on yet.

Celia sighed. "Right, you're still going through all the stages of grief, etcetera, etcetera. What are you on now? Depression?"

Ky rolled his eyes. She might not take this seriously now, but then again Celia had never really found it in herself to care for anyone in a serious relationship sort of manner. It was a firm belief of hers that just because you were intimate did not mean you were affectionate. Ky was waiting for the day when she would meet someone who would make her see otherwise. "What about you?" He asked, sliding off his battered sneakers. "How was movie night?"

Celia dropped a shoulder in a half shrug and made a 'what-are-you-to-do' sort of smile. "Oh, as it always is."

"Meaning?" He asked, beaming.

Celia giggled. "Well, Clary walked in halfway though the movie, minus Jace, despite the fact that they were going out tonight."

Ky looked at his sister warily. "Are they OK?"

"As well off as can be expected. She looked unhappy about something though." Celia remarked. "Lars and Johnny started making out after the first half hour or so."

"Wow," Ky commented, eyes wide.

Celia nodded sadly. "Yep. And loudly too. With little declarations of love and undying devotion dropped in here and there. Will had to throw a pillow at them to make them shut up."

Ky had to tip his head back to laugh at that.

"Not," Celia continued, "That it stopped him from keeping up a running commentary which only got worse when Clary joined him."

"Did anyone watch the movie at all?" He asked.

"Yeah," Celia said, nodding. "Simon did. I was too busy watching the show that was going down around me." She got up and stretched, rolling back her shoulders, her brick of a book held up in one hand. She dropped her arms and looked at him. "I'm going to bed now though. Mom and Dad are at some party. Are you coming up?"

Ky shook his head. "Nah, I'm still hungry."

Celia looked like she expected this and walked out the door and mounted the stairs. Ky followed her out, but headed towards the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to see if his parents had any cannoli or gelato anywhere. There was a small pastry box that housed some pizzelle, and he settled for those and poured himself a cup of coffee from the eternally brewing pot on the counter.

He munched on his cookies and sipped his warm, bitter drink, listening to the music that Celia had turned on that drifted down the stairs.

"_Anything could happen, anything could happen…"_

He grinned a little wickedly and moved his operation onto the front stoop. He needed a smoke. He needed to think about exactly what it was he wanted. He needed to think about the wild card that had suddenly been presented to him in the form of Alexander Lightwood.


	57. Chapter 57

_Sebastian's skin pushed against hers. His fingers were hot and reaching. She tried to fight, but she was just too weak to do anything. With a wicked smile, he reached for the edge of her shirt…_

Clary's eyes snapped open as she sat up in her bed, panting. The sheets were twisted between her legs and the comforter had partially fallen off the bed. The frigid winter air brushed against her already sweat covered shoulders and made her shudder. The room was dark enough that the only things she could see were inky black half shapes and suggestions of figures in the furniture of her room. The only light peeked in by the window, from the stray yellow glow of a streetlamp outside.

Adrenaline still racing through her system from her nightmare, Clary reached over and clicked on the light by the nightstand, which immediately dispersed the shadows with a kind and warm brilliance that made everything seem more innocent than it really was. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to shoo away the scraps of her imagined terror like her lamp had. No luck, though.

Her shoulders sagged and she held off a sob. She still felt like she was in danger. She needed help. She wasn't afraid to admit that to herself and she definitely didn't want to spend the rest of the night alone and wide eyed with terror, both afraid of falling asleep and visiting the scene again in her dreams or that he would come and make the whole thing true at the same time.

She reached for her phone and leaned against one arm as she flicked through her contacts. Who to call? She hesitated when she reached Jace's number and sighed, closing her eyes. She would love to see him now and he would certainly help her get her mind off the entire ordeal, but did she really want to explain the entire thing to him? It frightened her enough to coax such a reaction from her subconscious and she couldn't rely on him to not get too angry about it or worry. She cringed as she began to picture him smoking a little. Getting him angry wouldn't help either of them in the long run.

She slid down to Will's number. Will she knew she could trust to accept whatever she told him with a even head. He would be silently furious, she knew, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Will had a better handle on his emotions right now than Jace did, and she needed someone who would be steady. Plus, she had been telling Will her secrets since she was a kid. He knew her as well as he knew himself. She smiled shakily and hit his number then held her phone to her ear as she listened to the call connect.

"Lady," Will said after the first ring, not an ounce of surprise in his voice that she was calling at this late hour.

"Will," She said, hearing her voice crack.

Will exhaled softly. "What's wrong, Lady?" He asked quietly.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried her best not to cry. She was just so scared all of a sudden. "I—" She started. "I—" She was about to break into sobs.

"I'm already on my way, Lady," Will said. "Just hang in there for me, OK?"

Clary nodded as he hung up, even though a small part of her knew he couldn't see the movement. She curled up into a ball on her side and shoved her fist into her mouth as she felt hot tears start sliding down her face. She didn't know how much longer she could put up with all of this.

[][][]

A Surprisingly short amount of time later, the window slid open and her bed sagged as someone sat down beside her and placed a hand gently on her arm, shaking a little.

"Lady?" Will asked cautiously.

She rolled over and looked up at him with red rimmed eyes and tear marked cheeks. He sighed like if he was releasing the weight of the world

"Oh, Lady." He said, pulling her up so that he could hold her, hands easing pressure down on her shoulder blades. She shuddered out a few more sobs into his chest as she held onto his jacket. He moved one hand to stroke up and down her hair, humming a soft tune that she couldn't identify. When she was done she pulled away and he cradled her face in his callused hand, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

He clucked. "No crying for my lady. My lady needs to be happy and carefree."

Clary turned her head and laughed bitterly. "It's a bit late for that, I think."

Will shook his head. "Then what do you want me to do Lady? Tell me what's wrong."

She raised her eyes to his. "Sebastian," she whispered.

Will's grip tightened a little as he peered into her eyes. "What did he do to you, Lady? What happened?"

Her answer was to wrap her arms around herself. Will dropped his hand and sucked in a breath, worry creasing his brow as that one movement explained it all. It was amazing how such little things could be all that was needed to explain themselves to each other.

"Lady," He practically hissed. He chewed his lip thoughtfully and looked out the window. "Do you want to get out of here?" He asked suddenly.

Clary nodded. She couldn't find it in her to use words anymore. Will pulled her to her feet.

"Go get dressed." He whispered. "And I'll take you on an adventure."

She looked at him with relief and picked the outfit she had worn that day up off the floor. She started towards her bathroom then looked back at Will hesitantly.

"I'll stay right here," He promised, smiling encouragingly. "Don't worry. I'll always be here."

Reassured, Clary ducked into the bathroom to change, and Will turned to look at the pictured she had tucked into the edges of her mirror. She had a couple of herself with Jace, or with Simon, or Celia, but what he really honed in on were the once she had put in prize places of him. There was one where he had slammed his hands down on the table while his top hat poised unsteadily on his head and his face bugged out with mock outrage. He'd probably been arguing some point with Wise Eyes. He flicked it with an affectionate finger and grinned, scanning for more.

He found another where his arms were hung over Clary and Simon's shoulders while they beamed into the sunlight and a terribly overexposed one of the Departed sitting in their booth at the Valkyrie. Another of just the two of them, sitting side by side and grinning like if they had just one the greatest prize they could dream up. All these memories, placed here to remind her every day of the history they shared. He felt a soft, fuzzy feeling fill up inside of him just as Clary popped out of the bathroom, fully dressed. She still looked like a beaten animal, but Will didn't mind. He held out his hand to her.

"Ready to go?"


	58. Chapter 58

Clary leaned her head against Will's shoulder. They were sitting on their bench, the tiny stone chapel rising up next to them and the small park behind them. The streetlamp cast a yellowish light on the empty street, reflecting off windshields of snow-dusted cars. It was cold outside, being late December, but she didn't really mind. Will was warm, and it was hard not to catch some of his heat when they were sitting this close to one another. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts. It was nice to be here and spend time like this with him. They were close enough that they didn't need words to fill the frigid air, being content together was enough.

Will was plucking a soft lullaby on his viola guitar style while he looked out into the night-filled street with his legs splayed in front of him. She shivered a little beside him and he turned and glanced at her, a question in his eyes.

She straightened up and nodded, rubbing her eyes a little. "Yeah, let's go."

He snapped his viola into its case and slid it around his back before offering her his hand in silence. She let him pull her to her feet, but didn't drop her hand once they started walking again. Right now, it felt like he was all there was to anchor her down, and she wasn't about to let him go.

"Do you want to go to the Valk?" He asked, bending his head so he could look at her.

She smiled at him. "That sounds nice," He turned away and started whistling, the sound echoing sharply. "Thank you," She said softly.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You know I would do anything for you, Lady, You don't need to thank me."

"But you do so much for me—"

Will shook his head. "You know why I do it, Lady, and that sort of thing never needs thanks."

She stopped and reached up her hand to brush along his cheek. "You're so good to me," She said.

He laughed and pulled away. "That's what being a best friend means Lady; always being there for each other, through thick and thin."

She grinned up at him. "Promise nothing will ever split us up again?"

He squeezed her hand. "Promise. I will move Heaven and Hell to make sure that I am always by your side."

She leaned into him. "Good."

Will pulled open the door to the Valkyrie for her and unsurprisingly, Americe was there waiting for them, menus in hand. She smiled at them.

"Something going on between you two that I should know about?"

Will shook his head. "Nah."

Americe raised her eyebrows. "Well it sure looks like it," She said, starting up the stairs. "Break it up, you two, before someone notices and starts a rumor."

Clary chuckled. "And who's gonna tattle, you?"

Americe shrugged. "Hey, I make no promises. Besides, you already have that pretty boy of yours. You sure you need this one too?"

Clary looked up at Will. "I think I'm always going to need this one."

Will laughed and sat down and Clary slid in across from him. Americe whipped out her notepad.

"Usual, you two?"

"Actually," Clary said, looking up. "May I have a regular stack instead of short?"

Americe was taken aback and glanced at Will. "That rough of a night? Is she alright?"

Will shrugged, and Clary noted that he still had that tight, worried wrinkle around his eyes. She reached out and brushed Americe's hand. "I'm fine. I just want some more pancakes."

Americe studied her for a moment, frowning. "Fine, but I'll pay, and I'll tell you what, I'll bring some hot cocoa too." She sent a sharp look back at Will. "For both of you."

Clary nodded and Americe sashayed away, Clary's eyes following her.

"It's weird how now that I know what she is, I pick up on all the little things I missed before."

"Like?" Will asked, gaze flicking up from her hand, which he had been studying with a strange attraction.

"How graceful she is," She looked at what he was doing, her brown crinkling in affectionate humor and curiosity. "What are you doing?"

He smiled. "Nothing. You just fascinate me, that's all. And your hands are cold."

She rolled her eyes at his quirkiness. "Do you have any cards?"

"Yeah," He said, pulling them out of his viola case. "Wanna play a round of sweet peas and carrots?"

She nodded vigorously as he started dealing out the cards. They had been playing it since they were kids when they were bored and invented a card game for themselves one say. Simon was the undisputed grand master, but usually they were able to crank out a pretty decent match.

Americe came up with their food midway through the fifth round and sighed, glaring at their hands.

"God, I hate that game. Doesn't matter how many times you try to explain it to me; it will never make sense."

Will dropped his cards and started cleaning them up, revealing a winning hand, which Clary scoffed at. "I guess it's just something you have to have grown up with."

Americe set the food down on the table and plopped down next to Clary. "Of course it helps that you know all the different ways to cheat."

He shrugged, unabashed. "You call it cheating, I call it a tactical taking advantage of all the players situation."

She reached over and moped up some ketchup with one of Will's fries.

"Hey!" Will objected, looking very distressed. "I'm a paying customer!"

"Actually," Americe said, "I paid, so these are my fries, and I'm on break." She smiled pleasantly and grabbed a handful more.

Will looked a bit ruffled by that, but he picked up his grilled cheese and bit into it with delight.

Clary grinned at him and set into her pancakes.

Americe glanced back and forth between them. "So if you weren't doing anything under the table—" She stopped as Will started gagging, almost choking on his sandwich. She frowned at him. "Small bites, William!" Will looked at Clary as if to communicate that little episode had had nothing to do with bite size, but Americe didn't notice and just continues. "What's up? Not a lot of people wander in at four in the morning looking as exhausted as you two look."

Clary glanced at Will cautiously. "I get nightmares," She admitted.

Americe raised her eyebrows. "Nightmares. Girl, that can't be good."

Will shook his head. "And it's not, but right now, I'm more worried about getting you home before someone noticed either of us is gone."

Americe looked at him. "You have time."

Will shook his head. "My mom gets up at five, and I've got a while to go before I get home."

Americe sighed and stroked Clary hair as she shoveled the last of her pancakes into her mouth. "OK, then. You guys get on your way." She moved so that Clary could get out. "And come back soon."

Will waved in ascent over his shoulder before the door swung shut after he and Clary's retreating figures.


	59. Chapter 59

Ky sat on his unmade bed and reading a battered and well-read copy of _As You Like it_. He enjoyed Shakespeare, and Celia always made a point to buy him one of the Bard's plays on his birthday and for Christmas. He had his Fun playlist going and, all in all, he was pretty happy for once. He snickered as Touchstone declared that Corin was damned like a poorly roasted egg. He had played both roles a few times around, although Mercutio from _Romeo and Juliet_ was his favorite. Besides him his phone buzzed and he set down his book to pick it up.

**Hi **

**-****AL**

Ky smiled a little to himself. He and Alec had gotten in the habit of texting each other back and forth in the last few days, and Ky was finding he always got a little kick out of talking to the other boy. It was more fun than he'd had in a long time.

**Howdydoodles **

**-KC**

**What's up?**

**-AL**

Book forgotten, Ky leaned back, a small smile on his lips.

**Well I was reading**

**-KC**

**oh**

**-AL**

**Don't worry. I've read it like a gillion times. **

**-KC**

**What were you reading?**

**-AL**

**As You Like It. I suppose it's kinda cheesy, but I'm a huge Shakes fan. **

**-KC**

**I didn't know that. What's your favorite play of his?**

**-AL**

**Idk. I really like Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet, but A Comedy of Errors is really funny and Macbeth is just a staple-everyone should read it and like it. **

**-KC**

"KYROS!" Ky looked up. His mother was hollering at him. He felt his phone buzz in his hand, but ignored it as he rolled out of bed and out his door. He leaned over his railing and looked down at her. She was scowling. Behind him, Nate Reuss kept singing.

"_But when I hold her too tight, I know she'll break/ She just takes some glue to stay"_

"What?" He called down.

"Come get your laundry. I don't want it in my kitchen!" Aly walked down the hall and out of his sight and he smiled ruefully. His mother was painfully efficient about how the household was run. Everyone had their own laundry days that were non-negotiable. Everyone had certain chores so the house was always clean and ready for company. It would be funny if it wasn't so annoying. He banged his way down the old wooden steps and Elia leaned out the living room door and frowned at him. Ky barely looked up though, stopping on the bottom step to read Alec's text.

**I thought it was a bit macabre.**

**-AL**

Ky chuckled and started walking into the kitchen.

**Heck yeah. My favorite in that story, I must say, is Opelia.**

**-KC**

**Isn't she the one who killed herself?**

**-AL**

**Yep. Although the reason why is debatable and no one is entirely certain of the answer. **

**-KC**

… **It's official, you're off your rocker. **

**-AL**

**You have no frickin idea. **

**-KC**

Ky tossed his phone on top of his pile of laundry and picked it up. He crinkled his nose; Celia had been the one to go shopping this week and she brought lavender fabric softener. His clothes all smelled like flowers now. Ky preferred the white linen that Aly brought or something else, like mountain breeze, at very least, something citrusy. Never flowers. Ky hated smelling like flowers.

He carried everything upstairs, his phone buzzing at the clothing mountain's pinnacle, and he sighed as he dropped the surprisingly heavy load on his bed and scooped up his phone again. He leaned against the bed post and smiled.

**We're all crazies here in crazy town.**

**-AL**

He typed back his response, sticking his tongue out between his teeth as he tried not to laugh.

**But who's the mayor? You or me?**

**-KC**

The response came back a few seconds later.

**Believe it or not, but I think the departed are crazier than both of us. They can have a ruling council.**

**-AL**

**LOL. Fair point. I can honestly see that. **

**-KC**

**:)**

**-AL**

**:)**

**-KC**

Kt sat his phone on his pillow and began the difficult task of folding on an uneven surface. He supposed it would be easier if he made his bed, but honestly he didn't feel like applying the effort. Celia appeared in his doorway and lounged against the frame. She raised her eyebrows.

"You are by far the worst folder I've ever seen."

Ky leaned back and looked at his latest work. It looked like it would come apart if he picked it up, but it was folded, and no one but him would know once it was in his dresser. He looked back up at her.

"I thought it looks nice."

Celia rolled her eyes just as his phone buzzed again. She made a dive for it and grabbed it before he could. Her eyes popped open and she quickly tapped in a reply; a mischievous expression lighting up her features.

"Celia, give it here." He swiped it out of her hand and looked at what Alec had sent him and what she had said.

**So do you want to do something again?**

**-AL**

**YES! Kyros would LOVE LOVE LOVE that. Between u and me, I think he secretly just wants to get in ur pants. But that's just my opinion. **

**P.S. ur kewl **

**-CC**

Ky sighed as his phone buzzed again.

**Hello, Celia. **** Will you give your brother back his phone? I want to hear his opinion.**

**-AL**

That was another good thing about Alec. He took Celia being annoying in stride.

**I apologize on behalf of my sister. Please know that her thoughts are entirely wrong, but I do think it'd be fun hanging out again sometime. **

**-KC**

**Great. So what do you want to do?**

**-AL**

Ky stared at that bewildered for a few minutes, unsure of how to respond. He didn't really remember how to spend time with people who weren't family or Departed or someone he was dating. What would be appropriate for this sort of thing.

Celia picked herself up from where she had draped herself across his bed and his remaining mound of clothes and looked over his shoulder to read the text. She snorted and grabbed his phone again. He conceded, knowing that she would have better ideas than he would. She waved it in front of him when she had finished.

"This good?" She asked. He glanced over the text that she presented him with.

**Ky's doing a play with his theater company and got 2 tickets. U can go w/ me and then we can all have dinner afterwards. **

**-CC**

He nodded and she sent it. It buzzed a few seconds later.

"Alec said that sounds like fun. Now come on, I'll teach you how to fold."

Ky nodded, not willing to argue, suddenly elated that Alec was going to come watch him preform, even if it would be with Celia. Even if they were only friends.


	60. Chapter 60

Will walked down the hallway with Jace. They had met up early this morning to spar in the training room, and Will was finding that he actually enjoyed the other boy's company. Jace had irritated him to no end when they had first met, but now that things had fallen into a steady routine and they had grown more comfortable around each other, Will thought they could grow to be close friends.

Jace said something and Will chuckled as they walked into the front hall. Clary was leaning against one wall, nodding and smiling at something Will's mother was saying. Carlyn smiled back as she pulled off one of her winter muck boots and started lacing up a tennis shoe.

Jace raised his eyebrows when he saw them. "Hello, Clary."

Clary looked up and waved. "Morning."

Jace leaned against the wall. "You know, I know how hard it is for you to stay away from my beautiful self, but really, Clary, isn't it a bit early?"

Clary tipped her head back and laughe, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Who says I'm here to see you? How do you know I don't have training?"

Jace grinned wickedly. "I make a point to know when you have training so I can ambush and distract you for my own personal pleasures."

Clary's eyebrows shot up. "I'm being stalked." She remarked dryly.

Jace shrugged and unpeeled himself from the wall, walking towards her. He brushed his fingertips lightly along her cheek and smiled. "Seriously though, why are you here? I thought you didn't get out of bed until eight o'clock, earliest. Especially on a Friday."

Clary grinned wickedly and peered around him. "As a matter of fact, I'm here for Will." She wiggled her copper brows at the dark haired boy. "Ready to go?"

Jace turned around and looked at Will, who was slumped against the doorframe with a wary expression on his face, then back at his girlfriend, brow scrunched and frowning. "What?" He asked, incredulous.

Clary looked at him seriously. "If you keep looking at me like that, you'll wrinkle, and all of that beauty you were talking about earlier will disappear and you'll just be average looking."

Jace snorted. "I will never look average. I'm too amazing."

Clary rolled her eyes and turned back to Will. "Come on, we're running on a tight schedule here." She bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement. "It's gonna be amazing, trust me."

Will continued to look at Clary like if she was about to spring up and attack him, but he came closer to her. "I seem to recall you saying that every year and every year something strange as hell happens."

Clary shrugged. "Hey—the Super Subway Shenanigan was _not_ a planned part of that trip."

Will looked at her in disbelief. "Really?" He said sarcastically. "You could have fooled me."

Clary giggled. "Come on, let's go, or else we're going to be late."

Jace shook his head. "I'm so confused. I don't like being confused."

Will heaved a giant sigh. Clary beamed. "It's Will's birthday!"

Will looked at her worriedly. "You said that way too enthusiastically. How are you torturing me this year?"

Jace blinked in surprise. "It's your birthday?" He asked Will.

Clary nodded matter of factly. "Yep. He's turning seventeen. He's the oldest."

Jace looked at her. "The oldest?"

"Of the Departed," Clary explained. "It's Will, Simon, Celia, Larla, Jonathan, me." She looked at him curiously. "When's your birthday?"

Jace blanched at her. "I've told you!"

Clary looked up thoughtfully. "You have? I must not have been paying attention," She mused. She gave him a sharp glance. "I'll ask Isabelle. Then we'll do something devishly humiliating to you. Maybe it will involve pink."

Jace scowled as Will started cracking up. "Alright Lady, I suppose so far you're off to a good start."

Clary flashed a smile at him and popped a blue paper crown with his name written across the front in sparkles. A piece of paper with a glittered number seventeen on it had been tucked into two slits on the big spike in the middle. Rhinestones covers every square inch in an almost obsessive fashion. It looked like something an eight year old girl had made.

Will frowned, brows hanging low over his eyes when they flicked up, as if he could see the homemade atrocity that was perched on his head like some unwanted and colorful bird of an exotic and rare breed. Clary reached up on her tiptoes and straightened it out, tongue pushing out between her teeth.

"There," She said, once she was satisfied, falling back on her heels. She tilted her head as she studied him, hands on her hips. "I think Celia did a wonderful job. We lost the old one."

Jace glanceded at her curiously. "Celia made this?"

Clary blinked at him a couple times. "Yeah. She loves glitter. And tormenting Will. When she gets to do both at once, she's incredibly happy. She was busy this week though, so she only managed to slap that together last night, but I think it's pretty awesome. Better than the original."

Will looked like a terrified animal, wide eyed with fear. "Oh, good Heaven help me. 'Better' can only mean 'worse' in my book."

Clary laughed. 'Clam down, nobody will care, we live in New York."

Will sighed sadly, at last resigned to the fact he had no control over the situation. "Do I have to drive myself around today?"

Clary looked like a pixie, her face held such an evil glee. "You could give me the keys."

Will shook his head violently. "No, no, that won't be necessary." He swallowed, as if he could just picture the horrors she could manage with his precious car.

Clary rubbed her hands together maliciously. "OK then. Let's put the show on the road then." She turned around and kissed Jace quickly on the cheek. "Iz is going to Celia's with the rest of the Departed. Follow her, alright?" She whispered into his ear, almost desperately. She pulled away. "I'll see you later, now," She said, turning to Will, "Let's go." He nodded, and slid into the elevator.

"Will you two please talk about that though?" Carlyn said, looking at Clary expectantly.

Clary nodded and slammed the elevator door shut, starting their decent.

"Well," Carlyn said, drawing up herself up and looked at Jace square in the eye. "I do believe we have some technical work to go over. Come along."

She brushed passed them and Jace gazed wistfully at the cage spread across the elevator shaft for a moment.

"Jace," Carlyn called from ahead.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her. He had no other choice.

Author's Note:

I've been nominated for an award going to the most promising MI fanfiction! I'm so excited!

I'm not kidding about Ky. I'm considering Fausto. Maybe Filiberto

For those of you who keep nagging me, the revelation of the bomb is coming; very, very soon. I have loved reading your guesses, so here are some hints:

Mortal Girl: Very Close! A demon attack was actually in the running when I was first considering reasons why Will would have left, but it's not what happened.

Mortalfan 101 D: I tip my metaphorical hat to you.

HGlover0831: … They were thirteen.

If I do bust relationships, I'll make a happy ending. That, I promise you : )

Yours,

Nerd Girl Nithagria


	61. Chapter 61

Ky sat at the kitchen table, happily munching on some cannoli out of the box that Celia had bribed him with so that he wouldn't get in her way. He smiled at it and resisted the urge to start stroking it. Cannoli made him happy.

"Oh," He said as he bit into one. "Oh, this is amazing." He looked at the cannoli in his hands with affection. "You are amazing. You are perfect. I love you."

Celia glided in a quirked an eyebrow at him for his oddity. "Alright over there, big bro?"

He smiled at her, drunk on his joy of having cannoli. "I'm more than alright." He fixed his stare back at his cannoli. "I'm in love. I am going to marry this box of pastries." He glanced back at Celia. "Where, again, did you say you got these? I think I might need more."

Celia snorted and opened up the fridge. "Like I'm going to tell you. There were twenty four in that box—"Ky's face lit up and she made a face at him to express how pathetic she thought he was being. "Don't eat all of them," She said, waving a carrot at him. "You'll get fat."

Ky popped open the box and looked at the neat rows of pastries in it longingly. "But it would so be worth it."

Celia rolled her eyes. "You need to get a life. Making love to cannoli is not an acceptable option." She reached down to grab one and Ky slapped the lid shut, leaning over the white box.

"MINE." He said, stroking the sides a little. Celia suppressed a laugh as he opened it up again and looked inside like a creeper honing in on a target. "These are my yummy babies. Oh, yes you are." He flicked one of them lovingly with his finger. "You and I are going to have so much _fun_ together."

Celia shoulders were shaking. It was so wrong, and yet so hysterical at the same time. "Whatever," She said, letting a few overly-zealous chuckles pop out. "Just take your new best friends upstairs. The Departed are coming over to make Will's cake and I don't want you being weird in here." She was going to tag on something teasing about Alec, but Ky was already standing up, attention monopolized by the box in his hands.

"OK," he said, slipping out the door. As he walked away, Celia could hear him cooing sweet little tidbits to the pastries. She shook her head and ate the rest of her carrot, popping open the pantry to pull out the necessary ingredients, thinking about Ky and his cannoli fetish as she did so. Their parents had sent him to Italy for a bit when he turned seventeen, before he had met Nick, and he had fallen in love with the culture and the life there. He had been reluctant to leave the food especially, Celia knew.

Upstairs, Fun. started playing and the doorbell rang. Celia slid out the kitchen and down the hall, ripping open the door and letting in a burst of cold air. Outside, it was snowing, big, wet flakes. It had always snowed on Will's birthday and Celia was certain it always would. It was as if nature was complying with one of Will's favorite kinds of weather just to make him happy. Outside, Simon, Isabelle, and, surprisingly, Jace, stood on the stoop, white flecks caught in their hair.

"LOVER!" She exclaimed, ushering them inside and giving Simon a bear hug. He was about a head taller than she was, but it didn't stop her. She kissed Isabelle on both cheeks and stared provocatively at Jace. "Mr. Gorgeous." She said. She gestured them along after her as they discarded their jackets.

"So," She said, "I was thinking chocolate."

Isabelle nodded. "I'm great at making cake! I'd love to help!"

Celia put a finger to her chin and studied her. "Lars and Johnny usually cover wrapping, but they've decided to decorate this year, so I was hoping you would do that."

Jace blinked at Celia, surprised at how well she had directed Izzy away from baking at yet still making her feel useful.

"Where are they?" Isabelle asked.

"Up in my room. Simon can show you. Feel free to take your time, just be reasonable."

Simon led Izzy away and Jace leaned against the counter. "What about me?"

Celia pulled some measuring cups out. "We're going to make a cake."

"I've never made a cake before," Jace confessed.

Celia bumped him with her hip as she went to pull more stuff out of the pantry. He decided not to comment and just let her be herself. Clary had told him that Celia generally flirted with everyone and to take it in stride when she did.

"That's alright. I'll show you." She dumped the measuring cups in his hand and gave him a large Tupper-wear bin filled with sugar. He held them awkwardly, trying to figure out what to do. She reached down and placed a bowl on the counter.

"Put two cups of sugar in that. I'll get the flour. Then put all the highlighted stuff in there too."

He looked at her, bewildered. He always felt a little off-kilter around Celia. "Highlighted?" He asked, cringing mentally at how stupid he sounded.

She tapped a piece of paper on the table. "Right here. Now let's get to work. Simon is about as bad at cooking as Izzy is."

He finished dumping the sugar. Music was playing somewhere in the house. There was a strange sound to it, but not altogether unpleasant, almost bouncing, actually. "What is that?" He asked.

"What?" Celia looked at him confused, but then her face lit up with understanding. "Oh. Ky. He really likes the band Fun. I think he secretly harbors a crush for Nate Reuss." She pulled out the cocoa powder. "I think it's Be Calm. He really likes that one right now."

He sat down and started scooping little crumbs out of the sugar and eating them. Celia sang along a little and he watched her.

"And be calm. Be calm. I know you're feeling like you were breaking down."

Celia was a bit like the song; jumping from one mood to another and hiding what she was really thinking. At least, that's what he felt like she was doing, He knew he couldn't even begin to claim to know her well enough to say for sure. She turned around and looked at him reproachfully.

"Put down the sugar. Are you going to help me or what?"

He put it down and stood up, smiling, and went to help her make a cake for Will.


	62. Chapter 62

Jace sat down in the now familiar spot that had become his own at the Flying Valkyrie. He still didn't feel like he was a part of the Departed, like if he hadn't yet been accepted among their fold as Isabelle had been, but he felt that he was at least treading water with them now instead of drowning. Larla and Jonathan had gone all out; the table was covered in confetti and there were streamers just about everywhere. They had come over to Celia's around two and had helped frost and decorate the cake. Then they had just…hung up. He couldn't even begin to understand these people, but he felt he was getting a start, slowly becoming more and more comfortable with them as he was around Clary.

Now they were here. Clary had texted them something of fifteen minutes ago explaining that they were on their way and to go get ready. Celia was making last minute preparations, Simon had some of Izzy's hair wrapped around his finger and they were talking, although Jace wasn't listening, and Larla and Jonathan were making out. Jace was getting the feeling that they did that a lot.

He looked up as a grinning Will and Clary appeared at the end of the table. Both of their cheeks were flushed with the cold and the happiness. They all immediately moved so that the two of them could assume their designated spots at the table, and when Jace slid back in next to Clary, he gently laid his arm around her waist and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Do you want to do something after this?"

He pulled back and she nodded, still wearing that ridiculously happy grin. Will was drumming his hands against the table and bouncing with excitement. Americe came over with the cake, smiling from ear to ear. Their cake was an incredible, lopsided masterpiece. As a final touch, Celia had placed a flower-shaped candle that was supposed to pop open and play music in the center, and everyone leaned forward expectantly as Americe lit it and it started playing.

Celia looked around after a minute or so because nothing had happened yet, the flower was still just revolving. "Is it broken or something?" She asked to no one in particular.

They all jumped a little as the flower burst open in a shower of sparks. Will raised his eyebrows.

"Wow." He said.

Celia laughed. "Heck yeah, baby."

Will snickered with her a little and so did Clary and Simon. Larla was pulling an obscenely large knife out and started carving the cake like if it was a Christmas ham. She plopped a piece down in front of Will, then Clary, and around the table. He looked at her and smiled. She looked so happy, like if this is where she truly belonged. It felt, for a moment, like if he was incapable of reaching her, but then she glanced at him and squeezed his hand and everything was back to being normal.

"So what did you guys do?" Jonathan called out, busily chowing down on the slice of cake Celia had set down for he and Larla to share. He held up a forkful of the stuff to her and she ate it with delight. They were so ridiculously in love that it was both strangely awkward and cute all at the same time.

Clary flashed a conspiratory smile at Will.

"Personal Story," He called out.

Jace had long since figured out what that meant. A personal story was one of the few things the Departed decided not to share with one another, leaving it to be cherished between whoever had experienced it with them. Sometimes, he knew, they shared with select people, and Clary whispered a few things in his ear every now and then, but it was still rare.

Jonathan seemed to accept this answer and nodded, taking a bite of the cake Larla offered him in turn. Celia leaned over to him.

"Are they adorable or what?" She muttered.

Jace shrugged. "I love Clary, but how they react around each other can be so…extravagant."

Celia looked at him and nodded.

"How long have they been dating?" he asked. "They seem like they're in that early stage when they can't get enough of each other and let loose the royal "we" all the time.

Celia looked at him with a steely seriousness. "Years." She said. "Since around the time they moved to Savannah."

"Seriously?" He asked, disbelief dripping in his voice.

Celia dropped a shoulder in a graceful shrug and took a bite of her cake. "Oh yeah. They're obsessed with one another. Love at first sight and all that dumb stuff." She looked at her fork. "This is unexpectedly good." She looked at him. "We actually managed to make something edible!"

Jace laughed. They had both come out of their dabble in baking covered in various ingredients and with hands coated in batter. They had taken turns betting on how bad the cake would be. He was very proud that it had actually come out alright.

Clary bumped her shoulder against his, and he started, for once, he had forgotten that she was sitting right next to him. She had probably been listening to Celia and his conversation.

"Ceals is right," She said, scraping up the last crumbs. "It is pretty awesome."

"Well of course. When have I ever done something that didn't make people fall over in amazement?"

Clary chuckled at that and leaned her head against his shoulder. They had been taken little baby steps with his whole potential to start a fire. Slowly and surely though, they were getting more comfortable with each other as it became more and more certain that he had things under control.

She yawned and he squeezed her side, turning his head to look down at her.

"You seem tired," He said softly.

She sighed. "I've had an exhausting day." She confessed.

He lifted up her chin with his fingertips. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will watching, although his party went on around him, the table littered with the scraps of presents he had unwrapped. They were in a neat pile in front of him. Jace pushed Will aside though and looked full on into Clary's brilliant green eyes.

"Do you want to go?" He asked softly.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, let's go." She said.

He smiled lightly at her and tapped Celia to move and let them out. She watched them leave with her wild eyes, like if she could see something that they didn't. It was unnerving, but he ignored it and focused only on Clary's hand in his as they stepped out into the frigid January air. She was what mattered, not Celia, not the Departed; just Clary.


	63. Chapter 63

Clary lay next to Jace, her head tucked under his chin. They were lying on the floor of the greenhouse, and Clary was thinking of the first time he had ever brought her up here. Over the years, Will had always given her favorite gift, always managing to find exactly what she wanted, even if she hadn't realized that she wanted it. When she turned thirteen, there were just too many things, so he gave her a list of thirteen promises of things they would do together. Thirteen, such and evil, bitter, unlucky number. Until Jace had shown her that flower, she had been certain that her years of presents that fit perfectly in her heart were over, but now she wondered. She was looking forward to what he would try to do for her next year. For now though, she just relished the moment she was spending with him.

He nuzzled the top of her head with his nose and then kissed her temple. "What are you thinking about?" He murmured; the moment was too sacred to be broken by talking normally.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. "Birthday presents. You. Our first Kiss."

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. "That was a nice night. Until Simon ruined it."

"I don't think Simon negated how nice it was." Clary said, snuggling in deeper to his side. The air around them was cold, and most of the flowers were dead, but it still held a quiet sort of beauty to it, and Jace was warm, so the chill went almost unnoticed.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back over her t-shirt. "Perhaps. But I suppose the two of us have had a lot of nice night since to make up for it."

He looked down at her and she pressed her lips to his eagerly. She liked being with them. They fit together perfectly, and he made her feel a little grounded after she got hyped up on all the energy that rolled of the Departed in undying waves.

"So what did you and Will do?" He asked, casually, but Clary could hear the undercurrent in his voice that he was trying to hide. The fact that he cared and was, dare she think it, just a tad jealous. So she decided to throw him a bone.

"Well, we went and saw a young people's concert featuring the woodwinds that the Philharmonic had—they didn't have anything for strings. He liked it anyways though. He loves music in general, especially classical. I know he aspires to play for them one day, at very least, and really wants to do one of the young people concerts. They pretty much showcase the best and the brightest."

"Do you think he is one?" Jace asked.

"Of what?"

"The best of the brightest?"

Clary looked at him funny. "Of course. He's been carrying around a viola since before I even knew him. He loves playing. He's dedicated his life to doing that as much as he's dedicated it to being a good Shadowhunter. You've heard him play," Clary said, turning her head to look at him. "You know what it sounds like."

He nodded and Clary went back to looking up at the dark expanse of sky before resuming. "We had some time to kill before that though, so we went and looked at the Library for Preforming Arts. He loves it there; he gets like a kid in a candy shop and can't decide what he wants to look at first." She smiled to herself. "It's fun just to watch him being happy. All of his joy just spills out and you can't help but grab onto some of it for yourself.

"Then we went to the concert, and that was about an hour, so we went to the children's museum after."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "The children's museum? Really?"

She shrugged. "We used to go all the time when we were kids. It was always so much fun. Anyways, we had a blast. Then we walked around Central contemplating the location of ducks. Unlike Holden Caufield's understandable misconception, they were there, which made Will happy. He loves ducks."

"Something that I will never understand," Jace chuckled and started running his fingers through Clary's thick red hair. She leaned into his touch, contentment filling her face.

"I think it's sweet. He jumps between the mentalities of a four year old to one of a very old man without rhyme or reason. But then we went and got dinner at this Mexican place we both like and talked."

He stopped and propped himself up on his elbow to look at her. "You just…talked?" He asked, incredulous.

Clary closed her eyes and pulled her hands down her face in exhaustion. "His mom asked us to think about being _parabatai_."

Jace sat up and looked at her. "Oh," he said flatly.

Her eyes flickered open and she stared evenly back at him, flashing emerald meeting unreadable gold. "Yeah." She said. Her gaze flickered down as she sat up a little. "I mean, it makes sense; I don't know anyone as well as I know him and he knows me better than anyone else. We never do anything without one another, and we've always been there for each other for as long as I can remember." She looked back at Jace. He crossed his arms and leaned back, sizing her up.

"What's the 'but'?" He asked, doing his best to keep his voice even.

Clary sat up all the way and hugged her knees to her chest. "I don't know if it's what I want. He's down for whatever I choose, as always, but" She looked up at him. "It's so big. How do you just decide on something like that? It feels like such a huge change in lifestyle."

He heaved a sigh and pulled her closer to him, rubbing her arms when he realized that she was shivering. "If you're not sure, then don't go through with it. Being _parabatai _is an important life step—just about as big as getting married. I mean, I can understand where Carlyn is coming from, but…" He looked at her, "Why are you so adverse to it? Watching you two makes it seem like it destiny."

She pulled away and turned her head so that he couldn't see her face. "Personal story." She said softly. "Something that happened before my life got all crazy."

He looked at her sadly. He wanted to understand, he really did, but lately he had been noticing that she threw up all of these walls, especially when it concerned the Departed. He tucked the thought away and stood up, holding out his hand. "Alright. Come on, I better get you home. Your mom's going to be wondering where you've been."

Clary slid her hand into his and allowed herself to be led away, but didn't say anything otherwise.


	64. Chapter 64

Alec stood in the lobby of the theater with Celia. He had really enjoyed the play, which had been a contemporary rendition of Romeo and Juliet. Ky, Celia had told him, had gotten the role that interpreted into Mercutio, which had made him happy. Watching him, Alec couldn't help but note how comfortable Ky looked on the stage; slipping into another role and another life. Alec wished that he could do something, or that he could, at very least, find something he was so passionate about. Before, his hobby had been Magnus, and now, now there was nothing. It was more than a little disorienting.

Ky emerged from the doors leading to the backstage, grinning and dressed in street clothes. The girl who had played Juliet came and gave him a quick hug. They talked for a moment before Ky politely excused himself and wandered over to his waiting admirers.

"You were wonderful," Celia said, pulling him down so that she could kiss him on both cheeks.

Alec nodded. "It was pretty good," he admitted. "I enjoyed that. I honestly had a great time."

Ky smiled with pride. "Well I'm glad you were entertained."

Celia handed him a bouquet of white jasmine and baby's breath flowers, accented here and there by stripped amaryllises. Ky laughed as he took it.

"It's lovely. Thank you, dear sister."

Celia shook her head in modesty. "Can we just go to dinner now? I'm starving."

Ky smiled and slid his free arm around his sister's waist, looking back at Alec to make sure he was following before leaving.

"So what was your favorite part?" Ky asked once they had gotten into the cab.

Alec leaned back. "I liked the really long monologue you had about dreams and how they can go awry."

Celia chuckled. "I liked the part where everyone died."

Ky looked at his sister in horror. "_Celia,_" he responded sharply.

She shrugged. "Hey, it was funny. Everyone being 'NO! MY LOVE IS TOO GREAT!'" She grinned and Ky rolled his eyes.

"I liked being in it personally," he said. "It was a lot of fun. We're having a cast party after our final show and our director has promised to get us some cake."

Alec smiled. "Cake is pretty good."

Ky looked at him in glee. "I know, right? Ceals brought me home some of Will's birthday cake—delish. Almost as good as a box of cannoli. Almost." Ky looked at Alec suddenly. "Have you ever read a Shakes play, by the way? I keep forgetting to ask."

Alec shook his head sadly. "Nope. I've never had the chance."

Both Ky and Celia gasped dramatically. "Come back home with us," Ky offered, "I'll lend you one of mine. You don't have to read them all, but everyone should read a little of his works. It's all part of being an active member of society."

"But I'm not an active member of society," Alec protested humorously.

"We'll just have to make you one then," came Ky's grim response.

They got out at Taki's and sat down quickly, Ky arranging his flowers neatly in the middle of the table with a quiet delight and Alec was surprised to find his heart surge with affection watching him.

They ate dinner, talking amiably with one another and jumping from topic to topic. Alec had never spent much time with either of them, but he already felt welcomed among them as if he had known each for a lifetime. He and Ky were getting to be close friends quickly, and he couldn't say that he didn't like it.

Celia leaned back when she was finished. "Oh, that was good. Thank you for taking me to dinner, Ky," She beamed at him, and he just shook his head, accepting the fact that his sister was making him pay. She slapped her tummy and then sat up. "Well, I have to pee. Be back up in a moment." She stood up and walked away without any further comment, which was probably for the best, given how cavalier she was with information they didn't need to know.

Ky watched his sister go and then turned to Ky with large eyes/ "Please excuse my sister," he begged. "She's a bit…abrupt."

Alec tilted his head back and laughed with an ease he only ever really felt around the other boy.

"KY!" Alec looked over smiling, when he heard Americe and waved. Ky stood up and gave her a quick hug. She plopped down in Celia's seat.

"You were truly incredible. I was moved by your performance, Ky, really." She patted his arm, and he ducked his head, his ears turning a quick crimson. She turned instead to Alec. "So are you two out for a date or something? Celia said she was hoping that you two would get together."

Alec felt the blood rush to his face. "Actually—" He began, but then he stopped, because, pulling on his coat as he walked towards them, seemingly unaware of Alec's presence. He must've felt Alec's eyes on him because he looked up and stopped. He stared at Alec for a full moment before jerking out his chin with the pride he always used to swallow how he was feeling, and continuing on towards them. Alec felt the blood drain from his face just as quickly as it had gotten there.

Ky's brow wrinkled in concern. "Alec?" he asked.

Magnus arrived at the table and placed his slender-fingered hand on the back of Americe's chair. "I think," he said, "It would be best if we left now, _sayang_." He said. He looked at Alec almost accusingly.

Americe looked at him with an adoration that she didn't try to veil and Alec, for a moment, was afraid that he might be rid of his dinner right then on the table.

"But you haven't said hello," She implored. "I imagine you wouldn't have met, but this is Alec—"

Magnus cut her off abruptly, eyes still fixed on Alec's face, not even bothering to look at Ky. Alec couldn't wonder what Magnus was making of all of this. For a split second, he wanted to open his mouth and explain everything, but then his gaze fell on Magnus' hand, possessively placed on Americe's chair. He swallowed and looked back up at the man he had loved. He would not be ashamed. Let Magnus think what he would.

Americe's brow crinkled in confusion, but she allowed Magnus to take her hand and lead her away, casting meaningful glances over her shoulder as she went. When they were gone, Alec dropped his head in his hands, acutely aware of Ky's careful stare boring into his head. He heard Celia flounce up and was Ky say, distantly, that they were leaving. It was as if seeing Magnus had dumped Alec back into the ocean, and now he was drowning all over again instead of staying afloat as he had been, almost to the shore, just a mere handful of minutes ago.

When Ky got up to leave, tapping Alec shoulder to let him know, Alec followed in a self-pitying silence, wanting to cry but not being able to.


	65. Chapter 65

Alec slid out of the cab after Ky and followed the siblings up the steps to their brownstone in a dull haze. Alec barely registered the entry hall; the grand sweep of the stairway even in the cramped space, and the oyster shell tiling in the front area. There was a small table by the coat rack that Ky dropped his keys in with a soft jangle. Celia slid off into a doorway down the hall and Ky slid his hand into Alec's and led him upstairs. That's what brought Alec out of his reverie; the strange sensation of having Ky's hand in his own.

Ky opened a door in the upstairs hallway that looked over the hallway, letting go of Alec's hand as he did so, and Alec followed him in, standing awkwardly in the doorway as he looked around the room that was presented before him.

The walls were a dark forest green and the ceiling was cracking like porcelain. Around the small chandelier was some intricate molding, but besides that, that was all the extravagant decoration in the room. An antique bureau was pushed against the wall next to Alec, its surface covered in spare knives, steles, and the codex. Clothes spilled out of the haphazardly closed drawers. In fact, clothes were everywhere; laid on the bed in neat piled, and scattered around the corners of the room in messy ones. The bed was badly unmade.

Ky noticed Alec's careful observation and smiled. "I'm not very good about keeping up with my laundry," he admitted from where he was leaning over a desk sunk into a bookshelf on the far wall.

"Well," Alec said, stepping in, "I think it's cozy."

Ky laughed. "That's one word for it. My mother's is 'pigstye'."

Alec picked up one of the pictures on the nightstand before glancing at Ky, who had resumed his search, to see if it was OK. It was a picture of Ky and Celia from perhaps a few years ago. Ky looked happier, less guarded than he did now, and Celia's hair was down for once and flapping in her face.

"It's from Santa Monica." Ky said from behind him and Alec turned around, his heart giving a little jump at how close Ky had come so quietly. Alec set the photo down.

"The two of you looked like you were having fun." He said quietly.

Ky smiled wanly. "I was a bit more naïve back then, and Celia, well; Celia has always been Celia I guess." He scratched the back of his neck.

Alec shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's easier to be happy when you're ignorant." His voice was still soft, like if they had stumbled upon some sacred moment.

"Well," Ky said, holding out the battered paperback he had selected. "It's _Much Ado About Nothing_. Another of my favorites."

Alec nodded and took the book, the moment having fled. His fingers brushed against Ky's and it felt like and electric jolt when through him, causing him to drop the book. He bent down to pick it up. "Sorry," he said gruffly. "A lot on my mind I guess."

Ky nodded, not meeting his eyes. Alec swallowed.

"Well, um. Well I'm gonna go…" he said, pointing towards the door with his thumb.

"Alright," Ky said, following towards the exit. "I'll see you later then, I guess."

"Yes, definetly." Alec said, walking backwards down the hall. He hit the railing on accident and he looked at the decorative iron with utter contempt. Ky chuckled and shook his head before walking back into his room without a backwards glance. Alec took a gulp of air and jogged down the stair, wondering what the hell had just happened. When he reached the bottom, he heard a voice urgently hissing his name and he turned to see Celia gesturing frantically at him from a doorway. Warily, he headed towards her.

"Celia…?" He asked.

She grabbed his arm and pushed him into a chair in the kitchen. She stood over him with all the protective fury of an angry mother bare and it was all Akec could do to not cower.

"So did you two make out or anything while you were up there? Is there any chemistry between you two at _all_? Or am I pursuing a hopeless cause?"

Alec blinked at her, disoriented by this unexpected interrogation. Celia groaned angrily and started slamming cabinets open and shut as she pulled out dishes and food. She set a plate of fancy patterned cookies and candy-sized fruits down in the middle of the table then put a wine glass down in front of him. Once she had poured them each a glass, she glared at him.

"Do you like my brother?" She demanded.

He looked at her blankly, not certain he had heard her correctly. "What?"

"Do. You. Like. My. Brother?"

Alec leaned back and pushed his hand through his hair, unsure of how to respond. "I…I don't know. He's a great guy I guess and he's fun to be around."

"So you like him then?" She asked him shortly.

He frowned and took a sip of the wine. "I never said that."

She put her head in her hands and watched him incredulously. "You have got to be _joking_."

He set the glass back down and made a grab for one of the fruits. It tasted like almonds. "I'm not. I mean, sure, I like him as a friend, but…" He trailed off and she sighed. In the silence, Alec noted that music was playing somewhere in the house

_I'm standing in Brooklyn just waiting for something to happen.  
I can't help but love thinking that everyone doesn't get it_

"What's that?" He asked.

Celia looked up. "What?"

_And bad ideas, but ideas nonetheless and so...  
I put one foot in front of the other one.  
I don't need a new love or a new life – just a better place to die_

Understanding flashed across her face. "Oh, that's Ky. He's a big fan of Fun."

"Fun?"

"They're a band," Celia explained. "Nick was—" She cut off abruptly.

Alec scrunched his brow together. "Nick?"

She waved his question away. "It doesn't matter."

_What you're callin' a sin isn't up to them.  
After all, I thought we were all your children._

Alec stood up and grabbed the book. "I think I should go. It's late."

Celia looked up at him. "Are you OK, Alec?" She asked. He voice was barely above a whisper and he looked away, afraid to meet her eyes.

_So up off the ground  
Our forefathers are nothing but dust now._

"I don't know." He thought about Magnus and his stomach rolled again.

Celia stood up and put her hand gently on his arm. "Don't do anything stupid," she begged.

_I am over twenty-five and I can't make a name for myself  
Some nights I break down and cry_

Alec didn't say anything and she moved away. "Goodnight, Alec." She said.

He left her there in the kitchen, and saw himself out, wondering what had become of his life.

_I put one foot in front of the other one.  
I don't need a new love or a new life – just a better place to die._


	66. Chapter 66

Clary doubled over the table and did her best to not let her soda explode from her nose as she laughed. Across from her, Will grinned wickedly. She picked up her coke.

"That," she said pointing at him as well as she could when she was holding a glass, "Was a good one."

He took a moment to admire his prowess at joke-telling. "Why thank you, Lady."

Celia got up and Jace slid into the booth next to her with one easy motion and kissed her cheek.

"Hello, Love."

She turned and smiled at him. "Hello."

Will leaned across the table, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "So Jace, a guy walks up to you in a bar—"

Isabelle stood at the end of the table, breathing a little frantically. "Guys, I have bad news."

Clary glanced at her curiously. Knowing Izzy, it was probably an exaggeration."What kind of bad news?"

Isabelle sat down next to Simon. "Apparently, mom found an ANGEL WING in the library, notified the Clave, then failed to do the same with us. And guess who it was from?"

Will raised his eyebrows and looked at her like someone would a person who was hallucinating. "Iz, look, I know we're all desperate for some sort of information on Sebastian right now, but angel wings? That's a little far-fetched, don't you think?"

Isabelle scowled at him. "No, I don't. I'm not saying it was some major angel, just a little one maybe, like Ithuriel."

Clary scoffed. "Ithuriel was not _little_."

"You know what I mean," Isabelle retorted. "Anyways. The Clave basically has no leads and they won't contact the Seelie Court for some crazy reason!"

Jace rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously, Iz. They're allied with Sebastian. They can't talk to them because the court won't let them. Plus, the Court has some unreasonable demand or just runs around in circles when the Clave tries to ask them questions."

Isabelle held the sly look of a fox. "What if we knew someone in the court?"

Simon looked at her, puzzled. "But we don't."

Isabelle grinned. "Oh, but we do." She pointed at Americe, who was bussing tables on the main floor.

"Ams?" He asked, but then the realization dawned on him. "Oh. Right. She's a faerie. I forgot."

Jace shot Simon a look asking him how much of an idiot he was.

Cleary rested her chin on her palm. "I suppose that would work. But is she part of the court?"

Jace raised his eyebrows/ "Essentially, all fae are part of the Court. They all always have acess to the Queen and her suitors at all times."

"What if one of them went renegade though?" Simon asked.

Jace shrugged. "I don't know. I'm a Shadowhunter, not a faerie."

"But you just can't help but act like one, can you?" Will remarked dryly from his corner.

Simon cackled. "When you say that, I start picturing him wearing a flower as a hat and running around in a tutu and tights, waving a magic wand with ribbons on the end."

Jace scowled. "You know that's not what the Fae are actually like, right?"

Simon smiled innocently. "I do, but that doesn't mean I don't picture it."

"One for the team!" Will said. He and Simon did a high-five over Izzy's head. Clary and Celia snickered.

"Why must you bully me so?" Jace asked. "It offends my delicate ego."

Will snorted. "Delicate ego. Yeah, right. If you have a delicate ego, then the Master is a good guy."

Jace's brow crinkled in mystification. "What?"

Isabelle moved on quickly. "So I was thinking we could get her to take us to them and ask them some questions about what the Hell Sebastian is up to."

"Oh, yeah, Izzy." Jace said. "That's incredible idea! Let's do it!"

Isabelle looked surprised. "Really?"

Jace slammed his hands on the table. "NO! Have you forgotten what's happened every time that we went to them for help?"

"Manipulated Clary and Jace, caused Alec hallucinated that he was an old guy, used the info Clary and I exchanged to spy on us and help Sebastian, and just generally exploited us and put unfounded doubts in our brains."

Jace did jazz hands in Simon's direction, highlighting what he had just said. "I can see why they call you Wise Eyes," he said, once he had stopped.

Simon sat up a little straighter. "Thank you."

"But you're still an idiot."

Simon's shoulders slumped again.

Jace turned back to Isabelle. "So now you see. This is a very, very bad idea. Let's not do it."

"I don't know," Celia said suddenly from next to him. Jace looked at her in shock.

"What?" he asked, unable to believe that she would be all for this, but then Simon's words nagged in the back of his mind: _She sits down, carefully considers everything that could happen, and then does it anyway_.

Celia continued. "Look, I know I haven't been here through all your craaaazy adventures, but if we play this smart, who knows, maybe we can come out on top."

Everyone at the table stared blankly at her.

"And if it all goes wrong, you can blame me later, but at very least we should try. As FDR said, 'It is common sense to take a method and try it. If it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something.'"

Clary sighed. "She has a point, you know."

Jace gaped at her. "Are you OK?"

Clary shrugged. "I'm not really sure, not where Sebastian is concerned." Her eyes flickered in Will's direction for a moment before she turned the pointedly down, afraid to meet Jace's and have him read the truth in them. "I don't think I will be until he's gone and if this could help that become a reality, I'm not going to object."

Celia looked triumphant, but Isabelle only looked warily determined. Simon's expression said that he clearly thought that this was a bad idea and Jace was ready to agree with him. Will was silently neutral. When no one objected further, Celia leaned over the rail and called Americe up.

"We need your help getting to the Seelie Court," Celia said.

Americe looked at her guardedly. "Why?"

"Because we want to ask her about Sebastian."

Americe gawked at her. "Are you out of your mind?"

"That's what I want to know," Jace said.

Celia leaned forward eagerly. "Look, I know everyone will tell me it's not a good idea, but sometimes you need to go through a few bad ideas before you get to a good one. Sometimes you have to make a few bad moves to make a good one possible. We may come out regretting that we ever went down, but we may also come out knowing more than we knew before, and I think that is worth the price of a little suffering, yeah?"

Americe looked at Celia sadly. "I do not think you know what you are getting into, but if this is what you really want, then I will help you."

Celia leaned back. "Thank you."

Americe shook her head and started walking away. "Do not thank me yet, Celia, but meet me here when I call you and I will take you to the Queen. Whether the trip will be worthwhile is yet to be seen."


	67. Chapter 67

Clary woke to the sound of someone tapping insistently on her window. Something nagged at the back of her mind; some hint of the dream she was having. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to recapture it, but it was gone, like song that ended while the station was changed. She rolled open with a groan, forcing her eyes to peel back and show her who this unwanted guest was.

He was almost indiscernible in the black of the night; black jacket, black hair. Only the pale white of his face, shining like the light of the moon, marked him out. Will smiled when he saw that she was awake. Without her willing it to, her mind slipped to another night, when another, younger Will presented himself to her like this.

"_I just wanted to come see you…"_

She slid out of bed and opened the window. He stepped in with the ease of someone who had done it before. He stood inches away from her. She remembered before, how he had offered his hand and an adventure. How she had accepted. Had she been a fool? She stepped away to give him space. He belonged here, in this room, as much as he belonged anywhere else in her room. He was a continuous fixture, a constant. When everything else fell away, there would always be Will, ready and waiting.

"Ams called." He said, and Clary's train of thought was derailed. "We're supposed to meet her at that fountain thing in Battery Park."

Clary looked at him funny and he shrugged.

"Hey—I'm from Staten Island. I don't concern myself with what goes on in Manhattan."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, now let me get dressed."

Will nodded and turned around. Clary picked her clothes from earlier of the chair and changed into them in the bathroom. She peeked out when she was finished. Will was sitting on the bed, turning a folded piece of paper over in his hands.

"What's that?" She asked.

He held it out for her to see and she took it. Her heart stopped when she saw his jagged handwriting, printing where each letter leaned and flowed into each other so much it was almost like cursive. He had always called it his musician's writing.

"_I, William Aingealceol, hereby promise one Clarissa Fray…"_

She handed it back to him with shaking hands and headed towards the window.

"Come on," She said quietly, hoping that her voice wouldn't quaver. "We should go."

Will followed her without comment.

[][][]

Clary stepped out of Will's car and shivered. She hadn't felt like sneaking through the house and waking up her mom and Luke as she went searching for her heavier winter coat. Will glanced at her and gave annoyed cough. He slid off his jacket, then his Julliard sweatshirt, revealing the black orchestra t-shirt he wore. Clary didn't recognize it and assumed it must have been from his school in Chicago. Her mind ran through this in a daze as he slid his sweatshirt over her.

"I would give you my jacket," he said, "but I happen to really like it."

She snuggled into the soft material. It smelled like him; rain and sharp winter air. "That's alright." She said.

They walked down the path towards the Departed, who they could see milling about already. Jace's eyes darkened at the sight of her in Will's sweater, but he didn't comment.

Americe looked unhappy. "For the record, I don't agree with any of this."

Jace sighed. 'It doesn't matter; we're here now, no going back."

Americe gestured to the fountain. Cement arches led to the center spout. The water beneath them was lit from underneath. It was very dramatic, but then, the Seelie Queen had always had a flare for that sort of thing. "Stand on the center and state your intentions of seeing the Queen. If she's in a good mood, she should let you in."

"'Should'. I don't like the sound of that," Simon muttered, but he stepped up and started towards the center as she had said, Celia in his wake.

Isabelle mounted the rim and looked back at the red-headed fairie, who had remained behind while the Shadowhunters moved. "Will you not be accompanying us?"

Americe shook her head. "While I agreed to help you, I have no wish to go down to the Court myself. I may be one of the Fair Folk, but I do not like to be associated with that vile wretch of a woman. She is evil and twisted inside, and I do not trust her. I urge you, turn back!"

Isabelle shook her head. "We won't. We can't. This is what we must do."

Americe looked sad. "Then so be it." She lifted her hood as she walked away, and a soft snow began to fall.

"Well," said Will, "It's now or never."

Jace looked at Clary curiously; she had spoken since she arrived. He tapped her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She looked at him with widened, wild eyes and his heart fluttered in his chest at the thought of whatever she had been thinking about. Something told him it wasn't good things. She opened her mouth to reply, but Celia interrupted.

"We wish to speak with the Seelie Queen before her court!" She shouted it into the cool night air and Jace wondered for a moment if this trip would all be in vain and that they would be turned away after all. He wouldn't be troubled to deeply, he realized, if they were, but then the stone they were standing on began its decent, ushering him into the familiar earthen hallway he felt that he had seen to many times before.

Meliorn appeared, as stony faced as ever, and they all moved to follow him as he silently led them away. Behind him, Jace heard the stone from the fountain retreat back to where it came from and he suddenly claustrophobic; trapped down here with nowhere else to go. Was this what it was like to be buried alive?

The Queen's chambers were falsely bright and cheerful. She was draped across her divan in a velvet blue cloak that matched her eyes. She smiled at her visitors like a crocodile might grin at its next prey and Jace suppressed a shiver.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my young Shadowhunters. Tell me children, what is it that I can help you with this evening?"


	68. Chapter 68

Jace smiled charmingly. He had unofficially become their spokesperson in this situation. Perhaps because he had the most experience. Perhaps because he would be able to hide what he was really thinking the best. "Surely, Dear Lady, you know what we seek."

The Queen laughed and it was a sound as cold as ice. Clary repressed a shiver at the sound of it. There was a growing sense of unease uncurling in her stomach. The Queen had always seemed to be picking on Clary whenever they met; she had been foolish to come here. She wondered what dread lay in her future now, for the Queen terrified her more than Sebastian and the nightmares she had of him. She looked at Will to steady herself. He understood. He would save her when everything started falling apart in her fingers.

He smiled encouragingly at her before turning his attention back to Jace and she followed suit.

The Queen leaned forward. "Of course _I know_, but I would greatly love, little Shadowhunter, to hear you say it."

His smiled turned wry. "We were wondering if you may just be willing to tell us the location of Jonathan Morgenstern, although, I do believe he may be going by Sebastian now."

The Queen's eyes shone with a fierce delight. "Beg for it Little Shadowhunter. I want you groveling at my feet knowing that I am greater than you. I want to see the desperation in your eyes."

Jace narrowed his eyes, but obediently went down on his knees and bent his head. "Please." He said. Clary could hear the hard edge under it. He was proud, and yet he did this anyways. She could even begin to fathom his reasons for doing so. She doubted that she could have done the same.

The Queen smirked and leaned back. "And what shall you give me in return? Jonathan Morgenstern is a powerful ally, and I am sure the repercussions for betraying his secrets will be harsh. For such information, I assure you, the price is steep. The question is, Little Shadowhunter," She said, quirking her brow, "Are you willing to pay?"

Jace's smile flashed. "That, Dear Lady, would depend on the price, which you have yet to name."

She laughed again. Clary was starting to hate that noise. It reminded her of shattering glass.

"And why should I reveal my hand so readily? It was you, after all, who came to me. If you are not willing to commit to this deal, then you may as well leave now."

"And how can we trust that your price will not lead to the harming of anyone in my party? Or the detention? I assure you, there is much that I am willing to sacrifice, but my companions well-being," he said, gesturing behind himself at them, "is not one of them."

The Queen twisted her face into what Clary was supposed to be an innocent smile. It looked wrong there, like some non-human, predatory creature that had learned to match the actions of humans so as to walk among them, but failed to realize that emotion was a necessary part of such actions. She looked more like an evil Mona Lisa; someone with a secret that would lead to an awful end. Then again, the Queen was all of those things and more, it was only natural that she would act in such a manner.

"I promise not to harm your companions, or keep them for my own enjoyment, but what of yourself, Little Shadowhunter? Do you not wish yourself safe from harm as well?"

Jace laughed, and the sound was as rich as warm maple syrup or a shining light in a cold night. Clary's heart immediately went out to him. She loved him for being able to act so casually around the Queen, who was always acting to rock the boat they were all so precariously perched in. She smiled. They would get through this. They always did, after all. "Why of course I do, without me the world would be greatly deprived of attractive persons such as myself to ogle and long for."

The Queen titled her head and rested her cheek delicately on the backs of her fingers. If Clary wasn't so repulsed from her, she would've wanted to draw her. She held within herself an ethereal and untouchable grace and beauty. "Don't fret, Little Shadowhunter. I swear not to do you and yours no harm or keep you longer than you like, but my price still stands, and I will not name it until you agree to it."

Jace looked back at them, trying to gauge whether or not they were OK with this. Celia and Isabelle looked at each other, and then nodded imperceptibly. Simon looked resigned to the fact that his objection would essentially count for nothing at this point. Will turned his gaze to Clary. She wrapped her arms around herself. Did she really want this? Was she really willing to make the gamble that everything would be alright. She raised her eyes to Jace's. He was as steady as Will. He would be there for her, and there was always the chance that the Queen's price would be something ridiculous, like it was when she had Clary retrieve those rings. She nodded once, and Jace turned back to look at the Faerie.

"We accept. Now, tell me your price and I will see it achieved."

The Queen leaned forward with a devious sort of glee and any hope that Clary had that she wasn't about to pick on her vanished. She felt like she was standing before them all naked and wanted to run away before anyone could look. The Queen smiled, as if she sensed Clary's unease and delighted in it.

"I would have your love be indulged in a kiss by that who first blessed her with one under the midnight stars."

Clary's heart pounded in her chest with fear. She didn't want this. She didn't think that she would be able to survive this, but had she really expected that the Queen wouldn't know such things, wouldn't have played this to her advantage. Celia looked at Clary nervously. Simon shot her an angry look, guessing there was something she hadn't told him. She didn't dare look at Will.

Jace's eyebrows shot up and he laughed. "If you wanted to see Clary and I kiss, you could have just followed us on one of our dates."

Isabelle shook her head. "Besides, you've already seen it once already, why ask for it again."

She leered. "How foolish you are, Little Shadowhunter, if you believe that you were the first your Lady ever sent her heart out to, who ever loved her and held her love in turn. How foolish indeed."

Jace turned around and looked at Clary wildly. She raised her head to meet his questioning gaze and realized, suddenly, that she was weeping. She had never wanted it to come to this. She felt cool fingers brush down the length of her arm, a gesture that was meant for comfort but only called her to freeze up inside. Realization dawned in Jace's eyes.

"Will," he breathed.


	69. Chapter 69

Clary felt Will turn her gently around and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to be here anymore. She wanted to go home. Anywhere, so long as it wasn't here. She could practically feel Jace's horrified stare on her. She was sorry. So terribly, terribly sorry.

"I'm sorry, Lady." Will whispered in her ear. She could feel his lips moving against the soft skin there, and she wasn't there anymore. She wasn't anywhere.


	70. Chapter 69b

Will was sitting next to her on their bench. They had become friends here. This was they're spot. Everything began and ended here. When she thought of Will, her mind went immediately to this place. He was so ingrained the setting in her memory that the two were inseparable. So long as this bench was here, so also would be Will.

She hadn't seen him in a week, not since the paramedics had come to whisk her away, but seeing him now didn't fill her with hope; instead, she was slowly getting hollowed out as she anticipated one last sucker punch to finish everything off. This was her fault. All of it. Will reached out and stoked her cheek, wiping away tears she hadn't realized were streaming down her face.

"I am so, so sorry, Lady."

She shook her head. That wasn't right. He couldn't blame himself for everything. She couldn't let him carry the guilt of this forever. "You have nothing to be sorry for." She whispered.

He leaned his forehead against hers and she realized that he was crying to. She wanted to wipe away his tears, but her shame weighed her down.

"Don't I?" He laid a his other hand on her forearm, the one that was covered in bandages from the break.

"No…" She said, shaking her head.

"Lady," his voice was urgent now. "I need you to listen to me. My mom—she thinks it would be best if we left. Went somewhere else."

_My mom, you mean, _Clary thought. As terrible as it was, it made sense. Jocelyn had always been wary around Will, as if she was waiting for him to break something, and now she thought he had. Clary tried to form her words into thoughts but her brain wouldn't work, it was going overtime trying to process what he had just said. Will couldn't leave. Will was always there for her. She didn't know how she would carry on without him.

He cradled her face in his hands. He looked positively miserable. She closed her eyes. So many things left undone.

"I love you," she murmured.

He didn't reply for a long time, and she was about to open her eyes, steel herself for the rejection that would most definitely be written all over his face. She could picture it; how his lips would pinch together, how his brow would crinkle.

_I think I may have loved you since I first lay eyes one you, William Aingealceol. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to say so. _

She was ready, her eyes began to flutter open, but then his lips were on hers, rocking her towards him, as soft and gentle as he always was with her, but speaking of a passion he never tried to hide from her. She reached up to touch him, bring him closer, but he pulled away.

"I am so, so sorry, Lady," he said. He landed a messy kiss on her forehead, and her mind reeled with what had just happened. Her eyes opened slowly. They would find a way to work this out. He had to stay. She couldn't let him leave her, not now, not like this. It took a minute for her to totally register her surroundings: the mist that caught the golden glow of the streetlight, the chapel that rose up beside her, the trees that were just starting to rain their leaves down on the below, but no Will. He had gotten up and retreated into the shadows from which had had come. Her shoulders slumped with disappointment, and she bowed her head into her hands and wept for all that she had lost.


	71. Chapter 69c

Clary's eyes fluttered open. Will pulled away. She realized, distantly, that she was clutching his t-shirt. The Tessa Kosta School for the Arts, Chamber Orchestra 2010 it read. She swallowed and let go. She wanted to look at Jace, but couldn't bring her eyes to move to his face. Celia looked miserably, and Simon and Isabelle wore matching expressions of shock. Will closed his eyes in pain. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, but it felt like, when he had stepped away, a glass wall had slid in between them, dividing her from the rest of the world. She was always screwing up, making mistakes, bringing her world to ruin. She buried her face in her hands. She wished that she could take it all back.

"You've had what you want," Will said. His voice was gruff. "Now give us what we want."

The Queen, who had leaned forward to rest her chin on her fist, smiled in mock sweetness. "I don't think your Lady Love is doing so well. She can leave."

Will glanced back at her with worried eyes, but Clary's world was rushing around her. Suddenly, she was back on the fountain in the Battery. A hand reached out to steady her, and she looked up hopefully, thinking it was one of her friends.

Meliorn's impassive face greeted her as he released her arm. "You may feel a bit woozy. I suggest that you sit down and wait for your companions." He informed her emotionlessly.

She took a step backwards, away from him, and another, and another, until she turned around and ran, wishing that this nightmare of a night would end and let her be. She had had enough. She was ready to go alone now, even a chance encounter with Sebastian would stop Clary, in the emotional train-wreck that she was currently experiencing, would stop her from achieving that.


	72. Chapter 70

The Seelie Queen leaned back and smiled, happy to have shaken them so. "So, Little Shadowhunters, what was it you wished to ask me? Bear this in mind though; your payment will only buy you one question, so choose wisely, less your struggles have been in vain."

Jace's heart beat wildly in confusion over what had just happened, anger that it had, and hatred towards the Queen for making it so. He hoped his utter disgust and loathing for her didn't show on his face. He smiled as sweetly as he could. "Naturally, Good Lady, we shall, I trust that through all your kindness, you will give us a chance to speak it over briefly."

She looked like a snake. "Take all the time you need."

Jace nodded and swallowed, turning back to look at them. His heart lurched at the sight of Will, who looked drawn and pale. Jace wasn't surprised to find no understanding in his heart for the situation Will had just discovered himself to be in.

To think that he had started to trust and like the other boy. He was just as repulsed by Will now as he was the Seelie Queen, and, he had to admit, he was just a little angry with Clary as well. He could perhaps understand Will not telling, but Clary? He remembered walking with her to Magnus' party.

"_Anyway, wouldn't you rather know the truth?"_

"_No, I mean, maybe. I don't know. Would you?"_

"_Absolutely, always."_

Apparently, she had determined that there were some truths he didn't need to know. He pushed his feelings to the side, though. There was a time and place to deal with them and it wasn't here and it wasn't now.

"What should we ask her? We need to ask her something that will give us a direct response that will actually help us."

Celia looked nervously at Will. "This is my fault. We shouldn't have come."

Simon rubbed his face with his hands. He looked tired. "Well, we're here now. May as well make use of the situation."

Izzy nodded. "Simon's right. Let's ask where he got the angel wing from."

Jace shook his head. "No, that won't help us. It was a symbol of bringing down Heaven's warriors, bringing down us. We need to know his plans."

Izzy snorted. "Then she'll tell us something snarky, like how he plans to bring us to our judgment and allow demons to rule the earth."

"Plus it wouldn't help if we know his plans, but not where he is to so we can stop him. Even if she did tell us that, it'd be useless because we would know what was happening and not being able to fight," Celia argued. "We need to ask something that will help us bring him down."

"OK then. What if we ask for where he is?" Jace offered. "Specifically, so that she can't give us some roundabout answer."

Simon shook his head. "But then she'll just tell him that we asked and he'll go somewhere else."

Jace sighed. "She'll do that no matter what we ask. He's always going to be one step ahead of us." He glanced at Will, who hadn't said a word. "What do you think?"

Will had turned a sickly green, like if he was about to throw up. His face was so twisted with pain and misery that Jace started. Why was _he_ feeling so awful?

"I've caused enough trouble as it is, don't let me add to it."

Simon scoffed. "Look, I'm sorta pissed at you right now for never telling me about you and Clary," Will flinched, "Don't make it worse by giving us crap like that. State your opinion. Give us something to work with here."

Will closed his eyes with a sigh. He opened them a few seconds later and looked at the queen, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought. "Ask her…ask her what Sebastian wants with Clary."

Jace rocked back on his heels, startled and slightly furious that Will had dared to say her name, but he was also a little curious as well. Clary's tears had been puffy with tears when Sebastian had come to him on that fatal night. What had he done to her?

Celia looked at Will sharply. "That doesn't help us at all."

Will shrugged. "I'm sorry you don't agree with my opinion. I thought it might be something that could be considered helpful, but at the same time, nothing Sebastian could change upon learning of our inquiring after it."

Simon shook his head. "But there's a fair chance that she might not know the answer either."

Will sighed again. "Well then, I'm sorry that I ever opened my mouth."

Jace looked over his shoulder back at the Queen. She was regarding them with an air of amused superiority. He shook his head as he turned back that them. "There's no good question that we can ask her, and she knows it. Let's take a vote and hope that whatever she does tell us at least puts us forward a few millimeters. He searched the faces of those gathered around him and found only agreement in their eyes. "Alrighty then, let's do this."

[][][]

Jace stumbled away from the center piece of the fountain the moment they hot the surface. He felt horrible. All of that, for what she had told them…it wasn't worth it. It never had been. Meliorn was standing nearby, snow sticking to every surface of his armor. He didn't look cold or uncomfortable though. Jace wanted to shake him until he bled for being so aloof.

"Where's Clary?" He demanded.

Meliorn smiled. "Your Lady, against my advisement, ran off."

"Why didn't you go after her?"

Meliorn shrugged. "She was not my responsibility. I did not see it necessary to do so and she seemed quite desperate to be alone."

Jace suppressed the urge to scream. "Do you at least no where she went?"

The response was a blank look. "Of course not. Now, if you'll excuse me." He stepped to the center and retreated back into the confines of the court. Jace wanted to hurt something, or someone. He spun and faced Will, who was sitting on the lip of the fountain, holding his head in his hands. Celia fluttered nearby, seeming greatly distressed, and Simon stood a few feet away, trying to pretend he didn't care. Jace hauled Will up by the shoulder of his jacket.

"You," he said gruffly.

Will's shoulders were already slumped with defeat. He looked like he had added ten years. He looked like a dying man. Jace wanted to kill him.

Isabelle appeared at his side. "Jace, calm down. You're going to hurt yourself." Her black eyes were serious and scared. He took a deep breath, just to show her that he was trying. There was a scorch mark on Will's jacket where Jace had touched him. Jace swallowed. He was losing control and that scared him.

Simon looked at both of them warily but when he spoke, there was an undercurrent of authority in his voice. "Look, you two can pick your bones with each other later, but for now, we need to find Clary." He turned to Will. "You know where she is. Go get her, or at the very least, talk to her. We'll meet you at the Flying Valk when you're done."

Jace exploded. "Why _HIM_?"

"Because," Simon said evenly, "He always knows where Clary is and he always will. That's just the way it works with them. Now come on," he said, watching Will's retreating figure. "We should get going."


	73. Chapter 71

Will sat down on the bench with a sigh. The scene was so intimately familiar; he experienced a moment of déjà vu, but no. Now, the world was beginning to be blanketed in snow, and he wasn't sitting as close to her now as he did then. He had been allowed to love her then, openly and freely, although neither of them had admitted to it until that night.

He turned to look at her now. He had known, even before they had left the court, that she would've run. It was in her nature to seek out solitude when she was afraid, or lonely, or feeling miserable, and when she couldn't find true solitude, she sought it in the oblivion of drawing. He knew that he was the same with his music. The only person he was comfortable being true about such ugly emotions around was her, and she, him. That's what they meant to each other. They were better than friends. It was like if they had been born _parabati._

Looking at her now made his heart ache. She hugged her knees to her chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but tears still streamed down from them. Her hair was dotted with snowflakes, looking like white jewels placed there to accentuate her beauty. She was a tense cord, wound of and longing for a release but not being able to find one, shaking with a deep tremolo as the high notes screamed and the low ones moaned. He wanted to touch her, find a way to comfort her, but he didn't know how without making an already terrible situation all the worse.

"Lady," he said. His voice was hoarse, like if he had been crying to. Maybe he had been, only his tears had been on the inside. Of the two of them, Clary had always been the more openly emotional. He was better at bottling everything up. He remembered the night that he had left her. He had been dying slowly inside, a knife pushed into his heart as he walked away because every cell in his body was screaming for him to stay.

She looked up sharply, like if she hadn't realized that he was there, and threw her arms around him. "Will." She sobbed into his chest. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry."

He was shocked for a moment, but then he let his own hands settle on her shoulder blades as he held her closer. He bit his lip as he rested his cheek against the top of her copper head, lest he start crying too. He pulled away first, holding her at arm's length. Her hands snaked around his wrists, holding onto him in case he dared to let go.

"Lady," He said softly, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

She shook her head fervently. "No. Do not blame this on yourself, Will. You can't blame every misfortune that befalls the world on some petty inadequacy on your part. I won't allow it."

He smiled wanly, through it all, she somehow always managed to be stronger in character than he was. "If it bothers, you, then I won't. I'll say instead that it was no one's fault because what fault can there be found in love? We do not choose how it works, I think, but rather, it chooses us."

Clary's shoulders relaxed. "You act as though love is something more than it is. Like if it is some greater force."

He shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps it is. All I know is Music, fighting and you, so perhaps my view of it is a little narrow."

She released his wrists and leaned back, chewing her cheek as she studied him. "What are we going to do, Will?" He voice was whisper-soft.

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out over the night. "I don't know. What do you want to happen."

"Don't ask me that," She said miserably. "I just want all of this to go away. For things to be how they used to; you and me and the Departed without a single care in the world."

"I'm sorry to disappoint, Lady" He said, turning to look at her, "But things must carry on and change. No backsies for history." He leaned towards her, urging her to listen. "I hate to ask it of you, Lady, especially now, but if you had to choose Jace or myself, who would you rather be with? In the long run, Love, having both is not an option."

"And if I choose him?" she asked. "Would you go out in this world, looking for another love? Would I lose you and regret it forever?"

Will shook his head. "I can't promise anything here, Lady, besides that I will do my best to always be at your side when you need it…as for love, I have spent my lifetime loving you. Should you release me, I can't promise that I wouldn't do my best to move on."

She nodded. "I don't know what to do," She glanced at him. "What would you have me do, Will? I trust your opinion on this as I have on everything else. Please." She said, grabbing his hands, "Help me."

He reached up and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. She leaned into the sensation, eyes closing at the contentment he knew was welling up inside her, and his heart broke, because he knew what he had to do, and he knew how she would choose, and knew that it might kill him. "Do you love him at all, Lady? Tell me, even know, do you not long to be with him?"

She pulled away; it was almost as if she knew what was coming. "Yes, I do." She admitted. "But I also love you—just as much at least."

He let go of her hand and stood up. "Then crush that love for me, Lady, for I will not have you if you want for any other man. I do not want you." Such a lie, but it needed doing. He kept going. "I will not have you regretting every moment we are together because you feel that you made the wrong choice tonight." He glanced down at her. She clutched the edge of the bench so hard that her knuckles were white; her lips were parted in hurt and surprise. Will could feel his heart shattering.

"Will," She said. Her voice fell on the silence of the night like yet another snowflake drifting to the ground. "Will, no,"

"Furthermore," he continued. He needed to get this done quickly. Even he had his limits; even he couldn't bottle it up forever. "I don't think we should see each other unless we can't avoid it. Tuesday nights with the Departed at very most, I should think."

She stood up. She was so tiny, but she was fierce, and Will was proud of her for that.

"I guess that calls off the whole…_parabati_…thing. For now, anyways." There was hope in her voice, right there along with the bitterness.

"Yes," he said, lightly. "For now."

She shoved her hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. He didn't call her out on wearing it. "I'm going to need money for a taxi." She glanced at him. "Happen to have any?"

He handed her a twenty. "Lady," he called, as she began walking away. She looked at him expectantly. "Go home. You look terrible."

She smiled, but it wasn't happy. "Goodbye, Will."

He raised his hand to wave, but her words felt like lead. Like if it was a death sentence.


	74. Chapter 72

Will plopped down in his seat at the Flying Valkyrie. He felt horrible. He wished he could have an ale, anything, something. He didn't care, so long as it made his forget for a few seconds. He was starving, but he felt like he was about to barf. He wanted to weep, but his eyes felt as dry as the desert. He was a paradox, a contradiction. Clary had ceased to be a fully functioning part of his life, so then the rest of it must also be void, worthless, dead.

And yet he was still here. How had he not died yet?

Simon raised his eyebrows at him. "You look dreadful."

Celia, for once, looked worried instead of stoic. "What the hell happened between you two?"

Will shrugged as Americe dropped a coke in front of him. "Where's your Lady, Sweetheart?" She asked. Everyone seemed concerned for his well-being. He couldn't say that they didn't have grounds.

He opened his mouth. "Gone," He said, but now words came out. "Gone," He said again, louder this time, but still deathly quiet. He was surprised his voice didn't crack.

Celia leaned forward. "William," He started at that. She never called him that. Will, or Willim, maybe, but never William. Then he started laughing at himself inside. His life was so screwed up right now, that he was surprised by what Celia was calling him. Maybe he was in shock. He couldn't bring himself to care about that possibility.

"Where did she go?" Celia asked, her voice was tense. She sounded almost…scared. That was ridiculous. Celia was never openly afraid of anything. Celia was brash and bold and utterly fearless. Why would she be scared now?

"Home," He said. He was exhausted. He wanted to go home too. Home and his bed sounded nice right now. His viola too. He was itching to play, he realized. Itching to release all of this pent up emotion in a never-ending wave of sound until his mother came running. She said his father used to do that, too. She said it had always terrified her, although he had never been able to figure out why. It kept him sane, naturally. Why would trying to be sane be terrifying? "She went home."

Celia visibly relaxed and Will looked around the table. Everyone still was staring at him with very anxious expressions, even Isabelle. Everyone, that is, except for Jace, who was glaring at him with an unmasked loathing. Will grinned at him.

"Problem, Mister Fantastic?" He felt unusually cheery.

Jace narrowed his eyes. "Don't talk to me Aingealceol."

Will set down his drink. He was feeling stupid. He was thinking that maybe it would be nice to be punched. He wondered if Jace would do that for him. "No. I'm going to talk to you all I please. You can't stop me."

Jace's fists clenched on the table. He was sitting in Clary's spot. Will was annoyed by that. Only Clary got to sit in Clary's spot. It was an unspoken rule among the Departed.

Will leaned forward. "You're not even Departed. What are you? Nothing. I bet Clary hasn't even told you have of her secrets. I bet you don't know her nearly as well as I do and I bet that drives you insane." He smiled. "It does, doesn't it, Herondale? That your Lady Love is more mine that yours."

Jace lurched forward and Will's heart sang gleefully at having managed to push the other boy this far, and looking forward to the pain that he was sure to receive as retribution, but Celia grabbed Jace's jacket before he could react further. Will slumped back in his seat, disappointed. Clary said that Jace had Holy Fire that burned sometimes when he got emotion enough. He had been hoping for the smart of that as well.

Celia looked at him disapprovingly. "Stop antagonizing him, Willim. You're not helping. What did he ever do to you?"

Will swayed towards Celia. He felt a little drunk. He needed to get home. He was way to out of it. "Don't tell me what to do, Glitter. As for what he did to me." Will flared open his hands, like if he was letting go of the air. "He did nothing, and that's exactly the point."

Celia's eyes went to slits. "I think you should go home, Willim."

He barked out a laugh. "Ah, yes. Home. To do what? Sleep? Heaven knows that I can't do that very well. Me and Clary, haunted by our own dreams, and now we don't even have each other to lean on when it gets beyond measure." He smiled at his drink. "What are we going to do now but fall apart, breaking down until we're reduced to nothing. What indeed? Yes, that is the question, isn't it?"

Jace leaned forward. He licked his lips. Something Will had said had concerned him. Will replayed his monologue. What had he said?

"What do you mean," Jace said, his voice carefully controlled, "that Clary is haunted by her dreams?"

Will considered his soda, all the carbonation bubbling to the top of the sweet, brown liquid. Ice clinking together, trying to push to the top. Everything was trying to get up and out. Wouldn't drowning in the stuff be so much easier and so much sweeter? He took a swig. Drowning. Not a bad idea. Oblivion didn't seem like such a horrible option just then.

"Nightmares, of course," He said when he had set the glass down. "Nightmares, running around in heads, and we are never ever free." His eyelids felt heavy. Sleep seemed nice. He didn't try to stop them. "She calls me when they're bad and whispers in my ear what they were about." He grinned sweetly at Jace, who had gone pale like a corpse. "Has she ever told you what she's most afraid of? I bet she hasn't. She's too afraid. She trusts me, though." He yawned. "With all her heart. Does she trust you? What has she hidden behind her pretty green eyes? What terrible parts of her does she not let you see?"

Will's head slammed down on the table. Darkness was creeping in on the edge of his vision.

"Shut up," Jace said quietly. He sounded just as bone-weary as Will did all of a sudden. Will didn't concern himself with that though: the darkness had finally filled in. He wasn't aware enough to care anymore.


	75. Chapter 73

Ky tilted his head back and laughed. He and Alec were sitting on the front stoop of the brownstone, both of them reluctant to go inside and put an end to the night.

"More wine?" He asked, holding up the bottle.

Alec nodded and held up his glass for Ky to fill it.

"That's the great thing about having Italian relatives, like my cousin. They never let us have bad wine." He said. He picked up another canola, left over from Celia's bribe on Will's birthday. "Oh, this is heavenly." He said.

Alec chuckled. "May I have one?" He asked, already reaching towards the box.

"Sure, go ahead. Mind if I smoke?"

He shook his head and pulled out two cannoli. "Not in the least." He leaned back and started munching on his treats. "These _are _good."

Ky shrugged, lighting up. "Hey, hang with the Italian kids and you're set for life. Ever had marzipan? Homemade gnocchi? Bruschetta with fresh tomatoes? I'm telling you, Alec, this is the life."

Alec took a sip of wine. "Oh, I believe you. I think I could spend the rest of my life happy if I got to eat like this."

"Cheers to that," Ky said, clinking his glass against Alec's with a smile. Being with him felt good, and Ky always felt so bubbly and joyful. Every time he was presented with the other boy, it was like rediscovering some beautiful masterpiece and finding little tidbit you hadn't noticed before but only cause you to love to whole more for having found them. It was strange and new and different, and Ky couldn't say he didn't like it.

Alec looked over at him. Who could say what thoughts were running behind those incredible sapphire eyes. "Can I try?"

Ky raised his eyebrows. "Try what?"

He gestured to the cigarette in Ky's hand. "Smoking. I've never done it before. Magnus—" He broke off, throat working and Ky realized that he was trying not to cry. He put his hand gently on Alec's arm.

"Yeah, sure." He handed the little paper death machine to Alec. He didn't think about whether or not it was wrong; he knew that Alec suffered as he suffered, and sometimes, you didn't want someone who talked down to you, you wanted someone who listened.

Alec held it in his hand and studied it for a moment in pure misery. Ky briefly considered taking it back, but then Alec lifted it to his mouth and breathed in. From the looks of him, you never would've been able to tell that it was his first time. Ky didn't know whether to weep or laugh.

"Why do you do it?" Alec asked suddenly.

Ky looked at him, startled. Seemed that Alec was just being the fountain of strange questions tonight. "Do what? Smoke?"

Alec nodded and raised the cigarette to his lips again, staring at Ky as if by doing so, he could bore into his soul.

Ky looked out to the street and sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe…maybe it was because I needed something to do with my life. Maybe because I wanted to be stupid and reckless after my ex sorta dumped me. Maybe because I figured that I was already dying from heartache, so how could this hurt me?" He barked out a bitter laugh. "Besides, I'm a Shadowhunter. A quick _Iratze _or something and I'm fine." He closed his eyes. "My parents don't even know that I smoke. Hell, Celia doesn't even know. I'm just the moody gay kid that everyone pushed under the mat because they're ashamed. Even Ceals, although she'd argue differently. I know I'm not easy, and I'm not sorry about it." He looked at Alec, who handed the cigarette back to him. "What about you?"

Alec heaved out a sigh. "You really want to hear my sob story? I'm sorry to say the only thing sad about it is just how pathetic it is. My boyfriend was a warlock and he was super secretive about his past. I only figured out where he born because an e lover of his I ran into told me to spite me…I didn't know how old he really was or a lot about his past. He always said it didn't matter. Anyways, that same ex-lover of his offered to help me make him mortal. I turned her down, even though I wanted to say yes, and went back to visit her. It's hard—when you're with someone like that—to be alone with all that history that you don't know a thing about. It's like this giant elephant you know is in the room, but you have no idea what it looks like. So he found out and he got angry because I couldn't just be content with what we had and, well, you know the rest." He looked at Ky. "I don't know. I feel like he part of what happened was his fault, for being so cagey."

Ky stroked his non-existent beard. "Did you ever tell him that his inability to be open with you bothered you?"

Alec shook his head. "No."

"You should've, but he was in the wrong too. If he really thought he could treat you like that and have no repercussions…well. He should've known better. So what do you do now?"

Alec's brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Ky scoffed. "It sounds like this relationship was your life for as long as you had it. Me? I have acting and Fun., and bumming out smoking. What do you do?"

Alec blinked at him. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess."

Ky stubbed out his cigarette. "Well you need to do something. Try cooking. Cooking is a good hobby. You could start by making something simple then working your way up. I'll test your food since I am obviously so well versed in fine cuisine."

Alec laughed and picked up his wine glass. "That doesn't sound so bad. I'll give that a shot."

Ky tilted his head forward in thanks.

"I have another proposition," Alec said, leaning towards him.

Ky grinned. "And what would that be?"

Alec took a deep breath. "I hear that Will and Clary never lie to each other, or at least, Will never lies to her. I'd like to do that with you. Always be honest."

Ky put his hand on Alec's without thinking. "I'd like that," He said quietly. "I'd like that a lot."


	76. Chapter 74

Clary was floating in a nowhere space. She wasn't alive; she couldn't be, not after everything that had happened to her. She had come home last night and walked to her room in a daze, ignoring her mother's increasingly more anxious calls after her. The day had started so well—recording the Departed's first album as a band. It had sounded good, too, but things, as always, had gone downhill from there. She couldn't help wondering when her life had gotten so terrible.

Night had passed, but little had changed. She had cried herself to sleep, woken up after a dream of that night so many years before, haunted by Will's terrified face and the weightless feel of falling forever, then cried some more until she hit this nowhere. She was cocooned in her thick comforter, wearing the same clothes as yesterday. She still had on Wil's sweatshirt. She snuggled deeper into it.

She was debating what had been worse; now or then. Then, he had been gone forever without so much of a whisper of where he went, and then had been out of either of their control. This, now, was deliberate separation, she knew where he was, but couldn't see him. It didn't matter though. She had forgotten how she had moved on then and didn't know how she would manage now. She felt rotten. She curled farther into her comforter.

Someone sat down on the foot of her bed. She hoped it wasn't her mother. Jocelyn had been peeking in her door all morning, then slipping away when Clary didn't respond, talking in a low voice to Luke. Clary didn't want to talk to her mother. She didn't want to talk to anyone.

"Clary," Simon said. He reached out and patted her foot. She grunted. "I'm not going to ask if you're all right, since you're obviously not. I'd like to mention that Will isn't doing much better, but I was wondering if you could give us a time frame of when you might be."

She didn't even grace that with a response.

Someone sighed from the other side of her room. It sounded like Celia. "Look," She said. "Last time, it took you like, a year to get over your mourning, and while I understand that you and Will have this whole 'think and act as one' gig going, we don't have a year this time, so SNAP THE HELL OUT OF IT!"

"_Celia,_" Simon rebuked.

Clary sniffled out a smile under her tent of sheets. She had such wonderful friends, if they were willing to come take care of her like this. It didn't change anything though. She still wasn't planning on coming out anytime soon.

"What?" Celia demanded. "She doesn't care, she's gone vegetative. It's our job to force some life back into her." Celia dropped her voice. "You remember what she got like before."

Simon sighed and was quiet for a long time, just running his hand up and down where he thought Clary's leg was. "Yeah," he said. His voice was rough, and Clary, for the first time in her life, wondered how hard her little excursion away from the world of the fully functioning had been on him before. In the end, he had been the last one standing, and she had loved and trusted him all the more for that. "I do."

Her bed sank down again. That would be Celia, sitting right near her head. Clary felt Celia stroke some hair aside. She was careful to keep her eyes closed. "I supposed I sound foolish," Celia said. "But I don't get it. How could it destroy her so completely to lose him? They're best friends, I get that. They tell each other every dirty little detail and all the hard gritty parts, I get that too, but at the end of the day, do the rest of us not count for anything? I get that she's hurt, but what about the rest of us? What are we supposed to do?"

Silence fell again and Clary assumed that Simon had shrugged. Celia always posed the best questions; Clary had to admit, ones that even she didn't know the answer to. Celia brushed more hair aside, exposing Clary's cheek. She rested her hand there for a moment. "Do you know the first time I ever threw it all away, Simon? It was after we had moved. I was fourteen. He cried the whole time, and afterwards, I got up and walked away."

Celia relinquished her hand and Clary could envision her turning to Simon. "Is that normal?" Celia asked quietly, "That I just don't care about love the way she does? Why is it that I bounce back but she acts like the world's over?" There were tears in Celia's voice, and Clary's curiosity piqued. Celia never cried.

She felt Simon move to sit closer to Celia. "Are you alright?" He asked.

Celia was quiet for a moment before she spoke. "Yes, I'm fine. It's her I'm worried about."

Clary's heart sank at the idea of everyone getting all twisted over her, but it felt like there was nothing she could do. She felt like someone had ripped out all of her vitals: she didn't know how to breathe or think, and she was certain that her heart had stopped beating.

Simon stood up. "Come on, Ceals. She's either asleep or not listening. There's nothing we can do here if she chooses to be miserable like this. We're wasting our time. She'll get up when she wants to."

Celia sighed and fiddled with the comforter, adjusting where it fell on Clary's shoulder. "Do you think she'll be alright in the end, Si? Do you think that either of them will be alright?"

"I don't know," He breathed.

Celia stood up. "All these pictures. You can see just by looking at them how much they mean to one another."

"My mom always said that together they would fly and together they would fall. There was never a different path for either of them to tread; together, or not at all."

Clary felt a tear slide down her cheek. Celia leaned over her. "'The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.' Arthur Conan Doyle. Observe the obvious love you do hold, Clary, and keep it dear to yourself, lest you lose it while looking back at what you've lost."

Clary went very still at that, surprised by the advice Celia had given as her grudging mind worked to sort through what she meant. She was going to get up and ask, but by the time she has thought to move, Simon and Celia were already gone.


	77. Chapter 75

Jace stood outside Luke's house, rocking on his feet a little nervously. He had had training this morning before Clary and had been intending to see her then, but she hadn't showed up. After that he'd gotten stir-crazy with the need to talk to her, he'd called Simon, moaned in Izzy's room about it, stared at his phone, alternating between dialing her number and waiting for her to call him first. It was awful. It wasn't until an hour ago when Alec had popped his head into the library and looked at Jace sulkily draped across the couch and suggested that he come see her that Jace had left the Institute.

He supposed that he should have come to see her earlier, but in truth, he was afraid. He had absolutely no idea what Clary and Will had talked about last night and was honestly terrified that she would leave him. Given Will's condition from the night before, that probably wasn't going to happen, but still. She could just decide she wanted a break from both of them. His heart fluttered in his chest as Jocelyn opened the door. He didn't know how she would receive him; the last time he'd been here, after all, it had ended badly.

She smiled though, and then went so far as to hug him. "Oh, Jace." She pulled back and ushered him inside. "She hasn't left her bed all day," She whispered. Alarm bells started going off in Jace's head. Jocelyn bit her lip and looked down the hall. "I think you might be just the person she needs to see right now. You know where it is."

She shooed him away, watching him from the kitchen doorway. Jace glanced back at her a few times before he reached Clary's door. He knocked; no answer. He swallowed, suddenly dry-mouthed, and pushed open the door.

The last, and only, time he'd been in here, he'd been controlled by Sebastian and more concerned with seeing Clary after being away from her for so long. Now, as he walked in, he took the time to look around. The mirror was plastered with pictures of the Departed from when they were kids until more recent ones of now, standing together, posing together. He was once again reminded of the crushing weight of history that Clary shared with them, but not with him. There were even more of just her and Will. It made his heart sink even lower in his chest.

On her dresser were pages upon pages of sketches she had made. Starts of faces he didn't recognize, they were so covered in eraser marks, landscapes of places he didn't know. And Will. So many different doodles and drawing he couldn't even begin to count them. It was as if she was taking pictures of him with a pencil on a page, they were so perfect, and captured at such mundane moments. His throat closed up as he realized that there weren't any of him at all.

He took a deep breath and looked over at her bed. There was a mound of blankets stacked in the center with a few copper hairs sticking out near the top and polka-dotted socks peeking out at the bottom. The image was so hilariously melodramatic that he wanted to laugh. He settled for sitting down near where her head was, kicking off his boots, and stretching out next to her. On her nightstand was a picture of the Departed in their booth at The Flying Valk, thirteen year old Will in a top hat, slamming his hands down in mock anger, and him. Jace started at that. He remembered bringing it with him after picking up some stuff from the Institute while he had been in Sebastian's keeping. He had stuck it in the wall in his room there. Distantly he realized that Clary must have kept it.

He closed his eyes. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

He rolled over and poked her on the side. "Hey," he said.

The mountain of sheets shifted until Clary's face appeared, blinking at the light in the room. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. She looked at him, confused. "What are you doing here?" Her voice sounded hoarse, either from crying or not talking, Jace didn't know.

He reached out and cradled her cheek so that he could kiss her forehead. When she didn't immediately reject him, a small fire of hope flared up inside of him. She wasn't through with him yet, then. "I missed you," he said softly, dragging her out of her fluffy fortress so that he could wrap his arms around her. He kissed her temple. "Are we OK?" He asked.

She locked her hands behind his neck and nodded into his chest. "We're OK."

He pulled her up until they were both sitting against the headboard, then tilted her face up to his with his fingertips. "Are you OK?"

She started to nod, then shook her head zealously.

"What's wrong?" He asked, stroking her back carefully. Baby steps.

"I—I miss Will." She whispered.

He started rocking her gently. It seemed like she was about to cry, and Jace didn't know what to do if that happened. "Well he's not gone forever, is he?"

"No," She muttered, "But it seems like it."

"Why?" he said, glancing down at the top of her head.

"Because we agreed that it would be best if we gave each other a little space right now."

"Why?" He asked, stopping and peeling her away so that he could look at her face. She was still wearing Will's sweatshirt. Gently, he pulled it off of her and dumped it on the pile. She didn't object.

"Because…because…because I don't know." She hid her face in her hands and shook her head again, hair flying. He pushed it gently over her shoulders when she stopped.

"Do you still want to be with me?" He murmured.

She nodded. "Yes. I don't want to lose you. I love you."

That did it. "He gathered her back up in his arms. "I love you too," He mumbled into her hair. "And I don't want you to be unhappy. If being away from Will makes you unhappy, then stay with Will."

She pulled away, still clutching his t-shirt though. "No. Will—he's in my past but being around him confuses me right now. I need some time to think away from him and just spend some time with you. I want to do that."

He kissed her. "OK, then." He said. "Whatever you want."

She glanced mischievously at the door, which was closed. "Whatever I want?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Your mother is home and I'm certain waiting for me to emerge with you. Within reason."

Clary sighed. "Fine. But I warn you, she's going to be a lot nicer now that she thin Will's around and she thinks he's on the outs."

"Good," Jace said, standing up and proffering his hand, which she took. "We can test that later. For now, let's get something to eat."

She leaned against him as they walked towards the door. "Jace?" She asked.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."


	78. Chapter 76

Larla kicked back on Jonathan's bed. They'd been dating since they were barely more than tweens—starting officially the day of the Incident—but to Larla, they had been together forever. That was one of the strangely sweet things about the Departed; besides Celia and Simon, they had always given their hearts away early to their companion on the Departed. Clary and Will had flirted until the day that he left, after all.

"I'm worried about Clary and Will." She said, munching on the Good Humor bar that Jonathan had brought her earlier in the evening. "Apparently, they had to kiss, which seriously screwed with their mojo, so they did the equivalent of breaking up to give each other 'space'." She peered at where he was sitting at his desk, looking over some video and checking the album they had made a little over week ago.

"I'm thinking 'Dialing Drunk'." He said. He came over and braced himself against the foot of the bed. "What do you think?"

She sat up a little on her elbows and stuck her tongue out at him. "Were you even listening to me?"

He grinned and tickled her foot. She giggled and he sat down next to her. "Of course I was, Sweet Peach. You said you were worried about Clary and Will."

She snuggled into his side and he took her ice cream and had a bite. She snatched it back and glared at him. "Hey. Mine."

He licked his fingers. "And I brought it for you." He looked at her seriously. "Do you want it back?"

She rolled her eyes and kissed him before settling back into the crook of his arm. "Alright. Dialing Drunk, maybe. It's catchy, I must say. Clary and Will though, thoughts?"

He drummed his fingers against her knee like he did when he was thinking. "Hmm." He glanced down at her. "Are you sure they're not texting each other on the side?"

Larla nodded. "They're careful not to even touch each other when it's not necessary. He's not giving her rides and she's not stealing his food. It's scary." She shuddered and Jonathan held her a little tighter.

"Well that's something serious."

Larla nodded. "So, thoughts?"

"How long has this been going on again?"

"Since the Saturday before last."

He looked at her funny. "But they were fine on dinner on Tuesday."

She scooted away and looked him square in the eye. "Jesus, how blind are you? Didn't you notice how awkward they were being with each other, and the tension just steaming off of Celia and Simon and Jace? It was insane!"

Jonathan looked sheepish. "No, I was too busy paying attention to…other things."

She sighed grabbed his chin. "Stop looking at me and see the world around you."

He leaned in and kissed her. "But you are my world."

She frowned. "Broaden your mind!"

"Isn't that what Professor Trelawney said in the third Harry Potter movie?"

She looked at him, exasperated.

He grinned and crawled over to her, wrapping her up in his arms. She loved it when he held her like that. "Sorry. Comic relief. So how are you planning on fixing this, Sweet Peach?" He kissed her cheek, her hand, her shoulder.

"Stop it," She said offhandedly. "I'm trying to think."

He kissed her elbow. "Go on then."

She grinned at him. "But you're distracting me."

He pressed his lips against hers. "Am I?"

She clutched his shoulders and sighed as he kissed her neck. "Yes. Yes you most definitely are."

He pulled away and tilted his head to the side, face just inches from hers. "Well then."

She swallowed and picked up her ice cream bar, taking several bites while staring at him wide-eyed. He laughed and pulled away, rolling off his bed.

"We need to fix this, Babe."

He slumped down in his chair. "Why can't they fix it themselves?"

She moved over to be near him. "Because they're too stupid to solve their own problems."

He raised his eyebrows. "I think that they can manage."

She plopped down on his desk and crossed her legs. "Yeah. Maybe once they've grown up, but right now, no. They're too emotional. Will's a train wreck, Clary, from what Celia tells me, is only sorta stable. Simon is, well, Simon. When it comes to love, he's clueless, and Celia, bless her soul, just doesn't understand love yet. It's up to us."

Jonathan wheeled his chair closer to her and grabbed her hand. He played with her fingers as he tried to piece together what he wanted to say. "I think you underestimate them."

Larla watched him as he rubbed her knuckles with the same curious fascination he always had in his eyes when he looked at her. She smiled at pushed her fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end. He smoothed it down absentmindedly, and resumed swinging her joints back and forth, matching up her hand to his own, and running his fingers over the lines cross-crossing her palm.

"Remember when we went to go see that palm reader in Savannah?"

She bent her head closer to his. "Yes. She said I was stubborn and would always work to get what I want."

He relinquished her palm, tilting his head to look up at her. "So what are you going to do?"

Larla chewed her lip. "Make them see how much they need each other. How much they really love each other."

He leaned forward. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

Larla flashed a grin. "Trust me—I'll make it happen." She pecked him on the lips. "Now come on, I'm not done with you yet."

[][][]

Will swept his bow along the string. He missed Clary. He kept finding himself to turn to tell her a joke, or something funny, only to remember that she wasn't there.

That he had pushed her away so that she could figure out how to be happy.

He started the concerto he had been writing since forever about his Lady. The first note was full of tension. New movement, then. He swept his bow along, letting his viola scream in all the ways he couldn't.

It was filled with longing.

It was filled with love.

Turmoil and despair joined the melody.

And then his tears plunked against the aged wood to add to the entire pain he felt at being cut away from her.

His choice. His own, miserable, choice.


	79. Chapter 77

"You're going to break your viola if you keep playing like that."

Will eyed, Jace, who was slumped in the music room door, and struck another dissonant chord. He really didn't want to be around people right now. Just the other day, Celia had described him as volatile and had been advising strangers to say away from him. Apparently, Mister Fantastic hadn't gotten the memo.

Jace shifted and walked over to the piano bench. "What are you playing anyways?" He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. Will recognized that he was trying to be friendly, but that didn't mean he didn't want to punch Jace in his smart mouth. Even if it had been one of the Departed, he would be contemplating hitting them right now for bothering him. Jace was Jace though, and that warranted an extra need for hostility.

Will lifted up his bow and ran through some exotic sixteenth melodic rhythms. "What do you want, Herondale?"

Jace sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I really wish you would stop calling me that."

Key change. Double stops. "Nope."

"Fine. Whatever. Are we going to practice?"

Will looked at Jace, incredulous. "_What_?"

Jace flashed a grin. "Practice, for that sonata thing, yeah?"

Will blinked.

Jace sighed "Look, do you still want to do it or not?"

"Uh, sure, yeah, I guess. I mean, I didn't think you still wanted to do it."

Jace snorted and turned around. "I may not be so fond of you right now, but I do love playing this piece. It's incredible."

"He wrote it when he was fifteen." Will said dryly.

"What?" Jace asked, glancing over at him, confused.

"Mendelssohn. He was a genius. Now come on. Movement two, please."

They ran through the piece for about half an hour before Celia stopped by. She studied them, hands on her hips, with curious eyes as she tried to figure out why they hadn't killed each other yet.

"Will, you're mom wants you," She said finally.

Will didn't stop playing. "Busy," he grunted.

"Oh, yeah," Celia said, "Sitting down next to Jace. "If you leave now, that barely perceptible mistake you had a few measures back that only you noticed, will not get fixed and will only get worse." She nodded sarcastically. "I can totally understand now."

Will stopped playing and looked at her with large eyes. "I messed up?"

She gaped at him, unable to believe that he took his music that seriously. "Yeah, it was terrible."

Will glanced, open mouth at his music for a second, reviewing what he had played, before he turned and glared accusingly at Celia. "You're messing with me."

She grinned and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Don't touch my viola." He set it down carefully and left. Celia turned to Jace.

"So," She said.

"Don't touch it!" Will swung into the room and stared at her. She sighed and swiveled to face him.

"I haven't moved, Willim. We're not going to touch you're precious viola. Swear by the Angel."

Will looked at her for a long moment, trying to decide if he could trust her. He nodded and walked away again. Celia started cracking up.

"Is he really that serious about his viola?" Jace asked, surprised.

Celia nodded. "Definitely. He's obsessed with it, like the Doctor and his TARDIS, like Dean and his car, like Cookie Monster and his cookies."

Jace stared at her blankly.

"Forget it." She said, once she realized that he wasn't following her references. "So why are you being so nice to Will?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Celia looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Yes, you do. You're just not sharing. I don't like it when people keep things from me. I usually have to take drastic measures to get them to tell me. Do you want me causing a scene, Jace? Do you?"

Jace glanced over at her, and suddenly, he was exhausted. He didn't want to have to play games with the Departed, or, in an even bigger picture, with Sebastian. All he really wanted was his family, fighting and Clary, and at the end of the day, was that really so much to ask for? Even now, with Clary having declared that she wanted him more than Will, he felt like he was only holding onto her affections by his fingertips and that the race for her attention had been lost before it started. The Departed, and ultimately, Will. It's final winner. He rubbed his hands down his face.

"Honestly?" He said, wanted to laugh at himself for how ridiculous he was about to sound in front of Celia, "I'm trying to play nice with Clary."

"Why would you—" Celia started, puzzled, and then understanding dawned on her face. "Oh," she finished quietly.

Jace kicked around a dust bunny that was on the floor. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Celia offered.

He glanced at her, not quite understanding what she was apologizing for. She bit her lip and looked away. She was very proud, he noted as he realized that atoning for herself and others was not something that she did often. It made what she was doing seem all the more like a rarely bestowed gift.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she swallowed. "Look, I know I sort of said as much as the Christmas party, but we, the Departed, basically screwed up your life, even if we don't realize it. Do you deserve it? No, probably not. Can we help ourselves? No, we absolutely can't." She turned back to face him. "I don't know if there's a happy medium to this problem; if there will ever be a way that we can all 'share' Clary and be happy with the outcome. Maybe there is, more likely there isn't. Clary is an all or nothing kind of person. She can't cut down on the time she spends with Will, she has to see him minimally. She can't choose to divide her affections, albeit in different ways, to the two boys that she loves, she'll have one or the other. She'll either do something in its entirety, or she won't do it at all. Our motto? Together or not at all? She came up with that. I don't know how this will turn out for you, or for any of us, an as much as I want to root for you and Clary, I can't, because I'm Departed, and I believe, at the end of the day, that she belongs with us. Period. No exceptions." She flicked her eyebrows up and tilted her head forward. "Understand?"

Jace wanted to cry. "Then why can't I be Departed?"

"Because," said Celia, "For you it's not about being one of us; it's about being with Clary. You don't care enough about the rest of us to want to join us, and until you care about us, you will not be Departed."

Jace watched as she strutted out the door then dropped his head on the piano. Everything was just so screwed up.


	80. Chapter 78

Carlyn smiled when she was her son. She had been worried about him for the last two weeks; locking himself up in his room playing his viola and leaving the house at the bleariest hours of the night. She didn't understand why he and Clary had suddenly decided to abandon each other. Celia had confirmed they weren't fighting with each other and Will hadn't given her a reason to think otherwise. They were, as far as she could tell, simply avoiding each other, which was why, when Carlyn was confronted with Clary's fear of heights, she immediately called for her son.

Will loitered in the doorway. "Ceals said you wanted me?"

Carlyn smiled. "I need you to help Clary." She said, pointing up. Clary was sitting, knees up to her chin, at the edge of one of the rafters, staring down at them. Will swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry.

"I seem to remember you two climbing anything you could get a good grip on as kids; jungle gyms, trees," she smiled wryly, "houses. It would seem though that Clary had recently developed a phobia of heights. I was hoping that you might be able to coax her down."

Will stared, wide eyed, at his mother. She had to be kidding. Didn't she pick up on the fact that they didn't want to see each other?

Carlyn placed her hand gently on his arm. "Please, William. I have to go talk to Maryse quickly about Clary's progress." She glanced up. "If anyone can do it, you can."

She slid out of the room and Will walked to the center, gazing evenly up at Clary.

"Hello, Lady," He called.

She waved, but otherwise didn't move. Will heaved a sigh and sat down, head craned back to look at her.

"Since when are you afraid of heights?"

Clary squeezed her eyes shut, Will's terrified face flashing before her. "I don't know," She said, picking at the worn wood once she had opened them again.

He smiled sympathetically. "You realize you won't hit the ground when you jump, right?"

She nodded a little. "I know, I've jumped before, it's just…" She trailed off and Will stood up.

"Nightmares?" He asked gently.

She nodded again. She missed his understanding voice, the way he always knew what she was thinking. She didn't like being separated from him, doing so was like losing a piece of herself.

"Lady," He said softly, and she leaned over the edge to see his face. He grinned. "I could always come up there and push you."

She scowled. "That won't be necessary."

He crossed his arms and gave her a slightly mocking know-it-all look. "Oh, so you're planning on jumping off of your own violation then?"

She nodded vigorously.

He laughed and beckoned her with his hand. "Come on then." He leaned forward and tilted his head so that it looked like he was staring at her with one large eye. "Or are you chicken?"

She scoffed. "I am not a chicken."

Will put his hands on his hips. "Oh you aren't then?"

"NO."

"Bet you wouldn't do it if you didn't have that rope on. Bet you twenty dollars that you wouldn't dare. Such a shame, too. I can remember you doing backflips off of ledges at least that high."

Clary stuck out her tongue and unfastened the rope. "Oh, I dare."

He grinned. "Ready when you are, Lady."

Clary took a deep breath, walked back a few paces, and then neatly executed a round-off dismount. She rolled up and somersaulted through the air before she uncurled and landed in a wolf-stance in front of Will. She smiled sweetly. "Twenty dollars please."

"Holy shit." Jace said from the doorway.

Will doubled over, cracking up.

Clary turned around and beamed at her boyfriend. "Hey there," she said.

He crossed the room towards her in a few long strides. "What the hell was that?"

Clary shrugged modestly.

Will straightened up, still suppressing a few chuckles. "That was the Lady being amazing." He threw his arm around her shoulders and looked at her affectionately. "Or at least, more amazing than usual. Amazing just flows off the Lady in uncontrollable waves of awesome."

Clary giggled and leaned in to Will, obviously happy to be near him, and Jace was sorry to say that he lost it.

"What is it with you two?" He asked, throwing up his arms. "You see more drama in your relationship that I do!"

Clary pulled away from Will and looked at Jace, concerned. "What?"

Jace scowled. "First you're all skipping and happy and gigglse and flowers and all 'let's-make-jokes-that-Jace-doesn't-understand-and -laugh-at-him." His voice changed into a really high-pitched, mocking girl;s voice. "And then you're all 'No! I want to be with Jace, but I'm going to be all melodramatic about losing Will and making Jace feel like an ass because somehow, he's the reason I have to choose!'. And now you're all. 'Oh, Will, Will, my darling, watch me jump gracefully down in front of you because I'm much more confident around you than I am with Jace. While we're at it, let's tell each other secrets that I don't even feel comfortable sharing with my boyfriend.'" Jace glared at her. "That's my 'what'."

Clary looked furious. Will suppressed a snicker.

"What did you just say?" She asked.

Will raised his eyebrows at Jace. "Yes, Jace. Explain to Clary what you just said, because I don't think she can fully comprehend how rude you just were to her."

Jace wheeled on Will. "Stay out of this, Aingealceol."

Something hit him in the face hard. Will started laughing again, and Jace turned to see Clary, rage twisting her face and tears streaming from her eyes, hand raised after having slapped him. He looked at her, shocked, his mind struggling to understand what had just happened. Clary drew herself up proudly, every bit of her as regal as the Lady Will called her. She grabbed Will's arm.

"Come on Will, we're leaving."

Will was chuckling even as the pair of them walked out the door. Jace spun around, meaning to chase after them, but he was rooted to the ground. "Clary!" he called.

She didn't come back. Jace sunk to the ground and buried his head in his hands. What had he done?

[][][]

Will took Clary to his house. She was full on sobbing now, and when he suggested the Flying Valk, she had just shaken her head passionately, so he went to the next best place. She ran up to his room and buried herself in his pillows, letting all of her emotion out for a solid twenty minutes. He rubbed her back carefully.

"Lady," he started, after awhile.

She sat up, wiping tears from her eyes, and silenced him with a kiss, the reached for the hem of his shirt.

He didn't try to stop her.


	81. Chapter 79

Clary was sitting at her desk drawing when her phone began chirping off Sweet Nothing. That would be Celia then. She set down her pencil and picked up her phone with a sigh, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes.

"Hello, Clary." Celia chirped.

"Ceals," Clary groaned.

"ooo. Sounds like someone isn't in a good mood. What happened? I mean, I heard you can Jace fight from the music room." Clary cringed. "But it sounds like there's something worse going on here."

Clary sat up and swallowed. "I slept with Will," she admitted. She had always told Celia just about everything that happened between herself and him; when she had first realized that she liked him when she was eleven, when she had kissed him when they were thirteen, and now this. Celia was better at sorting through all that girly stuff than she was.

"Oh, Clary." Celia said.

Clary laid her head in her hands. "Yeah, I know. I screwed up. I shouldn't have done it, but I was angry, and he was there…"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Clary." Celia said gently.

Clary started crying "I just don't know what to do." She moaned.

Celia was silent for a long time. "Clary?" She said at last?

"Yeah?"

"Americe's birthday party is tonight. I'll talk to then, good?"

Clary picked up her pencil again. "Good."

"And Clary?"

"What?"

"In the meantime don't do anything rash." Celia hung up with a click, leaving Clary to stare at the phone, wondering what Celia would define as rash. She shook her head and turned back to her drawing, a portrait of Will.

[][][]

Will picked up his viola. He was restless. He wanted to talk to Clary, but he was afraid to call her. He couldn't focus on the Bowen piece he was working on, as much as he wanted to.

He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened, what they had _done_. He had woken up in the morning and Clary had been gone, and for a moment, he had thought it had all just been a dream. He was still almost half afraid that it had been. What did this mean for them? Surely, it changed everything.

He shook his head; wondering never got him anywhere. He plucked at the strings half-heartedly, his mind racing miles upon miles away. He gazed out the window idly, then swung up his viola and began playing.

The undertones of the song expressed all of his inner turmoil, eighth notes that rolled over each other in almost dissonant repetition. The harmonies had aching long notes sung to his insanity, but the melody. The melody flew and soared and twisted up and around him until it felt like he had wings. There was hope and anticipation there and all the pent up emotion that he had been holding back since forever. He was cut off by his phone ringing out Celia's ringtone. He picked it up with an eye roll.

"So I just talked to Clary," Celia's urgent voice rushed. Will's heart constricted in his chest. He glanced out the window. It was snowing outside.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU TWO THINKING?" She finished.

Will flopped down onto his bed and stared up at the night-sky mural Clary had made for him. It was beautifully done, and he loved studying it on his sleepless nights. "I don't know."

"Oh course," she said. "Because the two of you were obviously NOT THINKING AT ALL."

Will sighed. Celia was just flying off the handle on this, in his opinion. It honestly, in his opinion, wasn't that big of a deal. "Celia, I don't know why you're so concerned," he retorted.

"Don't see why I'm so concerned!?' she spat. "Willim, do you fully comprehend what it is that you've done?"

"Um…slept with the girl I love and who loves me back?" he guessed.

"THE GIRL WHO HAS A BOYFRIEND! Jumping the gun, Willim, is not a good thing. Not a good thing at all, and you two dunderheads have just done it. What if something happens? What if Clary stays with Jace? You realize now, that you will have made her guilt-ridden for the rest of that relationship because she CHEATED on him? Tell me you realize this."

Will laughed. "Glitter, relax, Really. There's nothing to worry about. That won't happen."

"You know what else you said wouldn't happen?" Celia asked, her voice deadly quiet. "Clary getting hurt that day, and she did Will, which is why you had to leave in the first place!"

Will flinched and Celia continued.

"I think it's beyond her right now to control her emotions and it's beyond you to stop her when they get the best of her."

"Did you treat Clary like this when you were talking to her?" Will wondered aloud.

Celia scoffed. "For now, stay AWAY from Clary. _Capire_?"

"Fine," he said. "Whatever. I don't know when I'm supposed to see her anytime soon, anyways. We haven't talked all day."

"That is why friends don't sleep with friends!" Celia shouted. "It makes things awkward!"

"Alright, if you say so."

"I do, and you're starting to agree with me. Now. Americe's birthday party is tonight and I expect you to be there looking presentable and letting Clary do her own little Clary thing. You will not talk to her. You will not stand within fifty feet of her. You will not look at her, you will not touch her. As far as you are concerned, Clary is not at this party."

"Why do you even want me to go then?" He asked.

"Because Americe is your friend and you will be kind to her. It would be rude for you not to come."

"Alrighty then." He said.

"Good. The party is at seven at the Flying Valk. Remember what I said, Willim!"

"Yeah, yeah. Can I go back to playing my viola now?"

Celia sighed. "Do what you want, Will. Just…don't allow either yourself or Clary to make any rash decisions, OK?"

"OK," he said, already picking up his viola, barely listening to what she was saying. "See you later, Glitter."

"See you later, Will."


	82. Chapter 80

Clary walked into the party with a bounce in her step. She needed to find Celia. She needed to get this started. It was a Friday night, so it was one of the club night anyways. The stage was set up for a band to preform there later, but for now, music blared through the speakers, almost making everything else impossible to hear. She was reminded at once of the Pandemonium, where this whole business of Shadowhunting had started. Some much of what was happening rode on what happened that night. It was the finger that had flicked the domino line.

Cool fingers circled around her arm, and she turned to see Will. Her heart started doing whammies in her chest and she inhaled sharply. He shouted something at her, but she shook her head; the music made it impossible for her to hear him.

_Chasing dreams since I was fourteen with the four track bussing  
Halfway cross that city with the backpack, fat cat, crushing_

Will dragged her around the corner to the hallway leading to the bathrooms. The music was quieter here, and Clary leaned back against the wall, staring at Will cautiously. She didn't know how to act now. , and neither, it seemed did Will. He loitered in front of her, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Clary wondered what he had asked her earlier.

"Lady," He said at last.

She shrugged. 'Will…"

He sighed, closing his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. Clary fought the urge to smooth is back down. She flushed at the very thought of doing so. He looked at her steadily. "We need to talk."

"Well, obviously."

Two giggling and scantily dressed girls strutted down the hallway back towards the main floor. Will turned his head and got out of the way. "Sorry," he muttered.

"What now?" Clary said.

Will glanced up at her. "That's up to you now Lady."

She raised her hands in confusion and annoyance. "Well, you said you wouldn't have me if I still thought I might like Jace."

He raised his eyebrows at her, and she thought of flying through the air yesterday, landing at his feet. "And you think you still might be?"

She hid her face behind her hands. Everything was just a big muddled mess. She had thought that by drawing today, she might be able to sort it out, but so far it hadn't worked. She needed time and space to think. "Yes. No. Maybe." She groaned and Will's hands wrapped around her wrists, bringing them down so that he could look her in the eyes. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized how close he was.

He reached up and brushed back some of her hair. She hadn't really made an effort to dress especially nice tonight, but she had borrowed a top and a jacket that Celia had left from the last time she'd been over. She was painstakingly aware of the way those clothes fit on her body now.

"Lady," he said quietly, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "If you still liked Jace, you would've stopped me from bringing you back here and ignored me for the rest of the night, but you allowed me to lead you, so that has to count for something." He kissed her ear quickly, and Clary gasped at the contact, which sent little electric signals down to her toes. He pulled back and looked at her, his brilliant blue eyes seemed to be shades upon shades paler than they normally were, like if there was some light inside of him that was trying to push it way out.

Without thinking, Clary leaned up and pressed her lips against his, he kissed her back fervently, like if he was afraid that this was some sort of dream. It felt like a dream, both of them sinking and only being saved by the other. She leaned away from him, cradling his face in her hands.

She opened her mouth to say something kind and hopeful, but what came out was: "I am such a horrible person," she said. She dropped her hands. What the hell was she thinking?

Will reached up and brushed away one of her stray tears with his thumb. "I disagree, but if you're a horrible person, then I'm worse because I allow you to be horrible."

She flashed a sad smile at him. "You're too good for me, Will."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. You just want to think that. I've got just as much red on my ledger as you do, for it would be a lie to say that every wrong you committed, I did not do as well. Together or not at all, Lady. Your sins," he took the hand that he was still holding and kissed her knuckles. "Are my own, and I will follow you until the day you die. 'Whither thou goest, I will go; where thou diest, will I die and there will I be buried: the Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.'"

She sighed and leaned her head against Will's chest. He was wearing a worn out white t-shirt with a cartoon of people buried up to their necks in sand. Two violinists stood nearby, frowning. A speech bubble commented on the lack of sand. She shook her head. It was strange, the things she was noticing tonight.

"I think," she said softly, "That I'm going to break up with Jace." She glanced up at Will. "He's here, isn't he?"

Will nodded stonily and swallowed. "Lady," he said, as she started pulling him back towards the main floor. "Are you sure you want this? I mean."

She raised a finger up to his lips and pulled him out into the crowd. She squeezed the hand that they still had locked together, and kissed him again. "It's going to be alright," she promised. "Trust me."


	83. Chapter 81

Isabelle pushed through the crowd, looking for Simon. Something was going on with the Departed; Celia and Larla had been exchanging a conversation in raised eyebrows and widened eyes since the moment they had noticed the Lightwoods, and Isabelle, for one, did not like that she had no idea what it could possibly be about. Simon would probably know, and he would tell her. She bumped into a couple making out and she scoffed at them to get a room before trying to continue on. A flash of red hair out of the corner of her eye made her mind jump immediately to Clary, but when she turned to look, the couple was gone.

She shook her head. That was ridiculous. She had left Jace with the handful of Departed that was here. As far as she knew, Clary hadn't even arrived. She rolled her eyes and continued to push through the crowd without thinking about where she was going. Celia had said that Simon was around here somewhere. She was spat out of the mob over by the bar and the bartender looked at her warily.

"You're with the Departed, aren't you?" he asked.

Isabelle snapped her head around; she'd been trying to see if she could spot Simon in the immediate crowd. "What?"

"The Departed. The short little red-head, Clary, he friends Simon and Will…"

"Oh, yeah." Isabelle swung onto a stool and sat down. It was a miracle that they weren't all filled up.

He finished wiping up the bar and raised his eyebrows at her. "Can I get you a drink?"

She considered his offer before nodding. "Do you have any wine?"

He grinned. "Naturally." He poured her a drink and held out his hand. "Jonas."

"Isabelle," she returned. "Aren't you the one who broke up with Americe?"

He cringed. "We got back together. That break-up was just a sad moment of me being stupid."

She grinned and picked up her glass. "Seems like that happens all too often to even the best of us."

Jonas shrugged and served a lady who walked up, panting. She went to sit down and missed the stool. She was obviously drunk and Isabelle cocked an eyebrow at Jonas. He smiled sheepishly, as if to say 'what else am I supposed to do?' Isabelle turned back to her drink, her goal of finding Simon almost forgotten. "So why did you break up with her?" she asked.

Jonas looked at lost for an answer. He leaned on his forearms across the bar towards her. "I guess because I realized that loved her beyond all possible reckoning, and she loved me just as much, if not more, and we both had forever, stretching ahead of us for an reckonable amount of time, and I choked. I have been alive for longer than I want to have been, and been with a countless number of girls in those years. Now I have Americe and I'm not about to lose her, and I guess I just…" he shook his head. "I'm not used to having a gift like that. I have been blessed with a girl like her, and I'm sorry to admit it took me realizing that she might move on out of my reach to realize it."

Isabelle smiled. "That's sweet." She admitted.

He nodded. "And what about you, Miss Isabelle? Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah," she said, resting her head on her palm and glancing around. "I'm going out with Simon right now."

Jonas looked surprised. "He's a good kid. And a vampire too."

Isabelle shrugged. "What he is doesn't matter. Just who he is, and Angel strike me down if I don't love him for all he does for me."

A hand landed heavily on her shoulder and spun her around. Simon smiled down at her. "Do you really mean that?"

She nodded shyly and he lifted up her chin so that he could kiss her.

"I've been looking for you." she said.

"I know. Celia told me when I got back from saying hello to Americe. Why didn't you wait around?"

"Because Ceals and Larla were acting all weird. What happened?"

Simon's face went blank. "Nothing I think we need to worry about yet." He grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's do something."

She grinned at him as she stood up. "Do you want to dance with me?"

He shrugged. "If that's what you want."

"But you hate dancing."

"I would do it if it made you happy."

She smiled and kissed him, then led him out onto the floor. A girl with a long, swaying brown hair bumped into them. She flashed them a smile and moved aside. "Sorry," she muttered. She glanced behind her. "Come on, Jamie. This is where she said he'd be." She stepped on, a boy with salt and pepper hair sliding along behind her.

Simon looked at Isabelle and chuckled, letting her pull him the rest of the way onto the floor. Isabelle loved dancing with Simon. True, he wasn't very good at it, but that was alright, that almost made him more endearing. She turned around as someone tapped her shoulder.

"Where's your brother?" Ky shouted. The music was loud here, close to the stage.

Isabelle looked around and pointed to the general area she was pretty sure the Departed had assembled, claiming one of the bottom floor booths for themselves. Ky jerked his head in a quick nod for thanks and started weaving his way through the crowd to get there. Isabelle smiled slightly. He and Alec had been hanging out a lot recently. She was looking forward to the day when they would finally wise up and get together for real.

Simon followed her gaze. He had stopped bouncing on the balls of his feet and shaking his arms like if he was having a spaz attack. "They're good for each other," he said, and Isabelle couldn't help but agree.

"Simon," she said suddenly. She had been walking by the music room the other day and had overheard what Celia had been telling Jace. Isabelle loved Celia very dearly, but she wasn't sure how to feel about her opinion.

"What?" he asked. His brow was scrunched in that adorable way of his.

She grabbed his arm. "If Clary broke up with Jace and started going out with Will, would you be happy?"

He sighed, and his shoulders drooped. "Iz…" he started.

She dropped his arm and stepped back. "No, I want to know what you think."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again, the soft, cow-brown of them settling on her. "If Clary broke up with Jace, which I think is highly unlikely, even given everything that's happened, and started dating Will, I would think she had made a mistake."

Isabelle stared at him, shocked. The Departed always seemed to give Jace a bit of a cold shoulder, especially Simon. She found it hard to believe that he was standing up for her brother.

"Look," he continued. "Clary loves Will and Will loves Clary. I know this as fact, and there is a circumstance where I do believe they belong together, but I don't think Clary would ever break up with Jace unless something very radical happened because she loves him just as much as she loves Will, if not more. Clary may screw up sometimes, but that's the truth. Alright?"

She nodded and he took her hand and they started walking back towards the rest of the Departed.


	84. Chapter 82

Alec was sitting at the table at the end of the Departed stirring his straw around his drink moodily. He didn't like loud places like this. He preferred to spend his Friday nights at home, and he had been looking forward to reading _The Taming of the Shrew_, the most recent in a long line of Shakespeare works Ky had given him to read. Ky, was in fact, the only reason Alec had bothered to come. There was a small rubber-maid in front of him containing what was left of the batch of cookies he had made today. Jace and Izzy had figured out that his cooking wasn't so bad and had descended on the cooling tray while his head was turned like the plague.

The chair across from his scraped as someone pulled is back, and Alec looked up, expecting to see Ky at last, but it was a boy Alec had never seen before. He had soft brown hair and warm hazel eyes with tinges of green around the edges. A long, slender scar cut from the corner of his left eye and down past his chin onto his neck. His mouth twitched into an adorable smirk at Alec's bewildered expression. He reached out a hand, the familiar voyance rune flashing on the back of it.

"Nicholas Biceweald, but most people call me Nick. I'm sorry for presuming to sit here, but it seemed a shame for such an attractive person as yourself to be alone, so," he shrugged. "I figured I'd join you."

Alec tried not to blush. The last person who had so blatantly flirted with him had been Magnus. Sure, he had been hanging out with Ky as of late, but Ky was just his friend, nothing more. He swallowed. "Quite alright. I was just waiting for someone."

Nick looked surprised. "Oh, heavens. I hope I'm not intruding on anything."

Alec shook his head. "No, not at all."

"They must be crazy, to not be coveting you like crazy. I know I would."

He looked up sharply, and Nick smiled. "I still haven't gotten your name." he continued.

Alec's mouth was dry, and it took him a second to speak. "Alexander Lightwood, but only my parents really call me that. Most people call me Alec."

"Well, Alec, can I buy you a drink?"

Alec nodded shyly as Nick flagged down a waitress. He glanced over at Alec. "Anything in particular that you would like?"

Alec leaned back in his chair. "I don't care. Whatever you're having."

A girl with long dark hair splayed her hands down on the table. "Do you know where I can find Will Aingealceol?"

Alec blinked at her and she scoffed before wheeling away to join the crowd. A tawny haired boy behind her smiled apologetically before turning to follow her.

"Who the heck Will Aingealceol?"

Alec thought about it a second. "Aingealceol. She's the new trainer at the Institute. Maybe it's her son."

Nick nodded and a girl came to drop of their drinks. Nick took a sip of his and rested his chin on his palm, quietly studying Alec.

"I haven't seen you around here before. Where are you from?" Alec gave a silent breath of relief that he hadn't stuttered and sounded like a total idiot.

"LA. Los Angeles. The City of Angels. Very fitting for a Shadowhunter, if you ask me."

"So what brings you to the other coast?"

Nick shrugged. "Just visiting around I guess. I've always wanted to see the world, get a grip on the culture and such, and, of course, the Clave encourages it when you come of age. I figured I may as well take the opportunity, you know?"

Alec nodded in agreement.

"Have you been anywhere?" Nick asked.

"No, actually. We've been busy over here; dealing with Sebastian Verlac and such."

Nick looked surprised. "Oh, yeah. I heard about that. We sent our new Institute family over to speak for all of us. It's not looking so great, is it?"

Alec sighed. "No, I suppose it's not. Everyone's on edge now, waiting for whatever's next."

"Can't imagine that it's easy."

"If you stay around long enough, you'll be sure to figure out what it's like."

Nick laughed. "I'm sure about it, I wasn't planning on staying very long though, maybe a month at most."

"Oh."

"Doesn't mean I'd like a friend or two while I'm around," Nick murmured, sitting up and starting to reach for Alec's hand. "In fact—"

"Nicholas!?"

Nick's head snapped up and his eyes widened as his face drained of color. "Kyros." He mouthed.

Alec turned around to see Ky strutting towards the table. Nick quickly composed himself and stood up. He glanced at Alec quickly, and Alec could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out what to do.

"What the Hell are you doing here, Nicholas?" Ky asked. His voice had a deadly edge to it.

"I was just talking to your friend here." Nick said calmly.

Ky swallowed. "I can see that, Nicholas."

Nick ran a hand through his hair. "Does it help that I am, in every way, sorry?"

Ky looked at Nick warily and Alec couldn't help but feel like he was witnessing something he should be having no part in. He wanted to leave discreetly, but with Nick next to him and Ky only a few feet away, he knew he'd be noticed. He slumped in his chair. He hated parties.

"That's not what you said before." Ky said softly.

Nick smiled sadly. "Can I make the appeal that I've changed, and I regret what happened?"

Ky looked sad. "Couldn't you just let me pick up the shattered pieces of my life and move on, Nick?"

Nick shut his eyes briefly. "If I had known you were here, I probably would've done just that. I'm sorry, Ky, if I have caused you any strife." He walked away, brushing past Ky, and Ky turned his head, leaving only Alec to see the naked emotion written on his face."

Ky plopped down in the seat next to Alec and sighed. Alec was reminded of the disastrous night of the Christmas party.

"Ky," he started.

Ky shook his head. "Don't…talk to me right now Alec. Please."

Alec shoulders slumped and he looked back out at the party. So far, the night was going terribly.


	85. Chapter 83

Clary slid through the crowd, her hand wrapped tightly around Will's. Isabelle had bumped into them earlier and Clary had been reminded that they weren't out of the doghouse yet. She glanced back at him and he grinned at her. He looked so happy, like if she had handed him Christmas, and, she felt that in a way she had. Will had always been there in the wings, silently and patiently waiting for her to bring him to the spotlight.

"Come on," she said. "Celia said they were over here somewhere."

As if summoned by Clary speaking her name, Celia barreled into them. She glared at their hands, and then started pushing them around the corner towards the kitchen.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" She hissed at them.

Will looked at Clary and shrugged.

"I'm breaking up with Jace to be with Will," Clary declared. She felt bold; who was Celia to question what she was doing.

Celia frowned. "What did I tell you about not doing anything rash? And you," she said, spinning to face Will. "I thought I told you to stay away from her."

"CELIA!" Clary objected. She didn't like it when people took who she should and should not see. The idea of Celia, one of the Departed, objecting to she and Will being together made her strangely furious.

"No," Celia spat. "Don't you go 'Celia-ing' me. I refuse to be treated like some…some ignorant little girl. Yes, I know that you two love each other very much, and yes I know you think I don't understand that, but Carissa, you made your choice. You chose Jace and now you have a moral obligation to see that pathway through."

"But's it's wrong," Clary hissed back. "I shouldn't stay with him if I don't love him."

Celia glared at her. "You're in no position to say such things."

"And why not?" Clary growled.

"Because," Celia said, almost imploring her to listen, "Things are happening much too quickly for you to think straight on this manner. Clary, you two only admitted you both still had feeling for each other two weeks ago, at which point you were separated and now you're clinging to each other like if you'll never see each other again. You and Jace fought _yesterday_, and you reacted to that, poorly, I might add, on a whim. You need to slow down and think about what you're doing. Clary, please. A week, maybe two, to just get things sorted. Be sure that you want this, because if you leave Jace now, he will never, _never_, forgive you, and when you realize that it's him you want, he won't take you back, and you'll regret it until the end of your days."

Clary swallowed. Celia seemed on the verge of angry tears.

"Will." Celia pleaded. "Help her understand this. You have waited, I know, for practically ten years to have her. In the grand scheme of things, what are a few more weeks? Would you really want her to be miserable for all eternity because she made this one choice, now, tonight?"

Will looked at Clary, pulse pounding in his throat. His hand, in hers, felt like coming home, with all the familiar calluses and the smooth roughness that he possessed. She knew no face as well as she knew his. He smelled like he had always smelled, like rain and cool winter nights, and the smallest traces of rosin. He let go of her hand and pulled away, gently cupping her face in his hands and tilting it up to face his own.

"Lady," he said. "I love you, have loved you since the moment we met, there will always be a piece of me, no matter what happened, that will always love you, and loving you means that I have always wanted to see you happy. Jace, right now, makes you happy. Yes, you argue constantly, but I get the feeling that you're arguing because of me. Forget me, Lady. Move on, try and be happy with him, then come and find me, because I will never stop waiting for you Lady. I said so before and I say so now; I won't have a single ounce of you in doubt of this choice—"

"I'm not—"

"You can't deny it; I know you as well as I know myself. We're connected, thanks to you, we'll always be connected, don't worry about losing me Lady, I'm not about to go anywhere. Lady, listen to Celia. Give it at least a week, and if you're not happy, say the word and I'll come running, I promise."

"Will," Clary said. She was surprised to realize she was crying. She pulled back and wiped her tears away with the heel of her hand angrily. "Are you sure about this?"

He brushed her cheek quickly with the tips of his fingers. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

Clary nodded, swallowing back her pain. She would do as they asked, but it was no competition. She would be back in Will's arms before this time next week. She just knew it. "Let's get back to the others then," she said, barely more than a whisper. For a brief moment, she didn't think that they had heard her, but then Will nodded and slung his arm over her shoulders. He bent down, lips tracing words against her ear.

"Anything you want, Lady. Anything you want."

Celia nodded, obviously content that the situation was at hand, and started leading them to their table.

"WILL!" a voice screamed from behind them. Will whipped around, eyes searching the crowd desperately, brow furrowed in shocked concentration.

"What is it Will?" Clary asked, tugging away so she could look at him better. Celia stopped in her tracks and looked back at them, exasperated.

"I thought I heard—" He started, and then a girl with long dark hair leapt on him, wrapping her legs around his hips and burying her face in his neck.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," she murmured.

Clary looked on in shock and a tall boy with light brown hair that swished up in the front stepped up beside her, watching Will and the strange girl with an amused smile.

"Jamie Veerlem. I'm a friend of Will's." He said to her, proffering his hand.

Clary looked at him bewildered, but shook it. "Clary Fray."

Jamie turned and smiled at Celia. "Ceals. Always good to see you."

"Jamie," she said shyly.

"Celia," Clary asked, leaning towards her, but her eyes were trained on Will who had dropped the girl and was looking at her like if she meant the world to him, "Who's that girl?"

Celia swallowed. She looked worried and a little ashamed. "That," she said, "Would be Rachel Lysesten. Will's ex-girlfriend."

Clary's heart stopped beating in her chest. "Oh," she said.

"Yeah." Celia replied.


	86. Chapter 84

Clary stared at Will in shock. She remembered when he first came back, they had both been skirting what had happened between them, seeing if the other had moved on; '_there was a girl in Chicago'_. She was kicking herself mentally now for not having asked about her. She guessed she had just assumed, as always, that Will's life started and ended with her. She was the sun to his solar system, or at least, she had thought she was. Seeing the way he was looking at Rachel in happy amazement showed that might now be the case.

Arms wrapped around her from behind as Jace stepped up and kissed the top of her head. She leaned back and closed her eyes. Celia was right. She had been a little rash before. Her heart still immediately started racing when he touched.

"I'm sorry." He muttered. "For yelling at you yesterday. Are we OK?"

She turned around and pecked him on the jaw. "Yes, we're OK. You were right about a lot of things anyways. I should spend more time with you and stop moping about Will."

He smiled and glanced at Will. "Who's the girl?"

Clary shrugged. "Some ex of his. I don't know that much about her besides that her name is Rachel."

Celia, who was standing beside them and watching the reunion despondently, suddenly piped up. "She's a violinist. They went to school in Chicago together."

Clary glanced at her. "There are other Shadowhunters that go to school?"

Celia sighed. "Her family is crazy about music. Her cousin is like this prodigal cellist. Her family wanted them to be developing their talents in a group setting."

"Ah." Clary said.

"Yeah," Celia continued. "And she's like, crazy good at martial arts and stuff."

Clary frowned. She wasn't sure if she should like this Rachel girl yet or not. "So why is she here now?" she asked.

Celia shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe she missed Will. They were pretty serious, and they only called it off because she didn't think they could manage a distance relationship."

Jace tilted his head and looked at Rachel. "She seems cool."

"Yeah," Celia said. "She is. I was down there for a bit while Ky was in Italy and my parents got settled in LA. We were good enough friends."

Will started leading his friends over. Clary noticed with a slight pang that Rachel had his hand firmly clasped in her own.

"Guys," he said, "This is Rachel and Jamie. They were in my orchestra back in Chicago. Rachel, Jamie, you know Ceals, and this is—"

"Clary," Rachel said, holding out a hand and grinning. "Will's told me all about you. I've always wanted to meet you."

Clary repressed the urge to scowl at her and shook her hand as civilly as she could. "He never said a word about you," she said sweetly and sending Will an accusing glare. Rachel deflated a little and looked at Will, surprised.

He smiled at her innocently. "You never asked," he chirped.

"I shouldn't have to," She said back, still with that false smile. She looked at Rachel. "It's obvious you two meant a lot to each other."

Rachel smiled tentatively, sensing that something was wrong but not quite sure what. Jamie, who was standing on Will's other side, had apparently figured it out though and was doing his best to suppress the laughter that was shaking his sides. Celia flashed a grin at him.

Will narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure out what her game was. She smiled and turned to Jace.

"Come on, let's go dance," she said, tugging him along after him. Jace looked back and forth between her and Will, brow furrowed in confusion.

"What's up between you two?" he asked once they joined the crowd.

She shrugged. "I guess I'm just kinda annoyed that he never mentioned these people and all of a sudden they're here."

"You never mentioned the Departed to me."

"I never thought that I'd see the Departed again, let alone that I'd be able to include them in my new life."

He looked at her pointedly and she sighed.

"Fair point. Now are you going to dance with me or what?"

"Naturally."

"Clary," he asked after a while.

"Hmmm?"

"You've never said what happened between you and Will that caused him to leave."

"Oh," she said, swallowing and looking away. She was afraid to tell him. It was a moment in her life that she wished she could throw down a black hole and forget about, and now here he was, asking her to sludge him up and explain it. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest. "Do you really want to know that badly?"

He bent down and kissed her quickly on the head. "I want to know every gritty detail about your life. I will never cease to be fascinated but who you are and what you've done. I want to hear every story you have to tell me because that means I get to know you that much more. I love you, Clary, and I want you to be able to trust me with these sorts of things."

She sighed and glanced up at him. A rune glanced before her eyes and she blinked a few times, confused by its significance, but then she smiled sadly and slid her hand into his. "Come on," she whispered. "We need somewhere quiet."

He looked at her, puzzled, but allowed her to lead him away, up the steps to the virtually uninhabited balcony on the second floor. She sat down in the Departed's regular booth and he slid in beside her.

"Give me your hand," she said quietly.

He handed it to her quietly, waiting to see what she would do. She took her hand and then drew the rune, tracing it so that the line slid from his hand to her wrist and back around again. She stared at it, not wanting to believe what it would do.

"Close your eyes," she instructed, her voice barely a whisper.

He did as he was told and she marveled for a moment at how much he trusted her. That's what love was though; trust and faith. She smiled at him. She wanted to be able to trust him as much as she trusted Will. She took a breath, and closed her eyes.


	87. Chapter 85

"I used to love him," Ky muttered softly.

"What?" Alec asked, looking over. He had been watching the dance floor, waiting to see Izzy and try to catch her eye so that they could go home. He didn't want to be here anymore. He had no idea where the Departed were, and Ky was just slouched in his chair, staring at the table moodily.

Ky ignored Alec and kept talking. "And call me crazy, after all that happened between us, but I can't help but still have feeling for him."

Alec didn't know what to say, and Ky continued.

"I mean, Celia found him in a back alley, making out with some girl, and when I asked him about it, he first denied it, then shot off some shitty excuse, then said that if I couldn't handle something like that, then he was breaking up with me."

Alec looked down at his napkin. The situation was getting increasingly more awkward.

Ky sighed. "So he did. He turned around and left me standing alone on Santa Monica Pier in the middle of the night, and he never looked back."

"Um…" Alec said.

"I don't know," Ky said. "It's just so screwed up."

Alec was saved from having to comment by Celia marching up to the table, dragging Nick by his ear after her.

"Is there something you want to say to my brother?" she demanded.

Ky put his head in his hands. "Terrific," he said. "Just terrific."

Nick shot him a sympathetic glance and looked at Celia out of the corner of his eye. "Ceals, did you ever consider that Kyros and myself may not _want_ to see each other?"

Celia shook his gruffly. "Quiet, you."

"Celia," Alec objected. "Leave Ky alone. Can't you see that being near Nick is making him miserable?"

Celia narrowed her eyes at Alec. "Stay out of this, Alexander. This isn't your problem. And how do you know Nick, anyways? You been making out with him in back alley way too? Hmm?"

"Celia, leave Alec alone." Ky hissed, looking up.

Celia snarled at. "I only brought him over to apologize."

"I don't care if he does!" Ky screamed, standing up. "It doesn't matter anymore! Why can't you just leave well enough alone?"

"Because you never stand up for yourself! You mope for days and days and days, mourning a man who never loved you! It's not right! Pull yourself together Kyros and move on! He's just a guy! Heaven knows there are plenty of them around! You already have Alec in your pocket, screw with him!" Alec went deathly pale at that; every nerve in his body flashing numb. He glanced at Ky. "Don't wish you had this sorry excuse for a person around!"

Ky looked beyond furious. _"Non funziona così, Celia. Non si ottiene di scegliere chi si ama, o perché li amate. Naturalmente, si farebbe sapere che questo se avete avuto mai amato qualcuno, veramente li ha amati. L'amore non si tratta di avere rapporti sessuali con persone o flirtando con loro. Si tratta di godere la presenza di qualcuno e volendo di trascorrere del tempo con loro, non importa cosa. Che è qualcosa che non si capisco e non potrà mai capire. Sei come vuoto e freddo interno come un decomposizione cadavere." _He snarled.

Shock and outrage plastered themselves on Celia's face and Alec looked back and forth between the siblings, trying to figure out what Ky had said that had caused Celia to react in such a manner. Evidently, Nick needed no translation because even he looked scandalized.

"_Kyros_," he reproached.

Ky glared at him. "Don't even open your mouth, Nicholas. You're in no place to speak here."

Nick glared right back and pulled himself free of Celia's frozen hand. "And you should never talk to your sister like that!"

Ky looked at Nick with disgust. "I know Celia gave you that first scar. Would you like for me to give you another?"

Nick was irate. "I don't give a damn about what you do to me anymore, Kyros, but you will apologize to your little sister because you love her and she only meant well."

"'Only meant well'?" Ky screeched. Alec bit his lip and looked up at him. He was longing to bolt but he was too enraptured by what was going on here. "Nick, that doesn't matter. She should leave well enough alone!"

"She can't because she loves you!" Nick shrieked back.

Ky looked like he as on the verge of tears. He ran his hands through his hair and stared at Nick like if he was hoping to find some answer written on his old boyfriend's face. "Everything's just going to hell." He whispered.

Nick sighed and pulled back. He glanced down at Alec. "Take care of him, please. If you even remotely care about him, you'll keep him from falling apart completely. Please, Alec. I'm begging you. He needs you, trust me." Nick spun around and sauntered away, and Ky slumped back in his seat and quietly started bawling. Alec patted his shoulder awkwardly.

"I'm…sorry." He said softly.

"Yeah," Ky said. "Me too." His gaze flickered up to Alec. "My life is so screwed up right now, 'screwed up' isn't even a fitting term anymore. Why do you even give me the time of day?"

Alec shrugged. "I dunno. You seem like a generally alright kind of person."

Ky laughed bitterly. "You don't speak Italian. You have no idea what I just told my sister. I'm a terrible, terrible person."

"I don't think so. I think you're a good guy who's been forced into a lot of abysmal situations and has reacted poorly to most of them."

Ky shook his head. "I have a terrible temper."

The room grew calmer as a performer took the stage. Ky turned his head and watched, and bittersweet nostalgia fell across his face. "I should've realized he was going to sing. That was how we met, you know. He was the lead in a musical I was in. He has an incredible voice. Listen."

Alec twisted in his seat and watched as Nick pulled up the microphone.

"'Cause my life's become as vapid as/A night out in Los Angeles/And I just wanna stay in bed"

Ky smiled. "I'm going to miss him, but I think I'm ready to let him go now."

"Why do you have to give him up in the first place?" Alec wondered.

Ky studied him for a minute. "Because I think I've finally figured out what I really want."


	88. Chapter 86

Jace was getting annoyed. He had closed his eyes like Clary had asked, and nothing was happening. He had no idea what she was doing anyways. He opened his eyes and almost gasped. He wasn't back in the Flying Valkyrie anymore. He was standing on the pavement near a park. A seven year old girl who looked like a young Clary lay at his feet. Simon was running towards her. Will reached out his had to help her up.

"William Aingealceol." He said.

_This must have been the day they met. _Jace thought.

Clary took his hand and punched Will in the face hard enough that he started bleeding. He stared at her in shock before cracking up. The image blurred and now Jace was sitting at the familiar diner table, a young Clary and Will besides him. Will grinned.

"Lady it is then,"

Clary laughed. "Does this mean you'll finally stop calling me Clarissa?"

Will shook his head. "Never."

The scene changed and he found himself standing in the middle of a carpeted floor, surrounded by sleeping bags. Will and Clary looked older as they ran by, swinging wooden swords at Simon, who was wearing a monocle.

"I'll get you eventually, My Pretties!" He cackled. Jace didn't even have time to raise his eyebrows before he was somewhere else.

He sat at a lunch table with the Departed, young kids crowding around and making a racket throughout the room. A girl he could only figure as an eleven year old Celia sitting next to him. She studied her nails as Simon ogled her. Clary and Will slid in across from him, bickering.

"No," she said. "Openly attacking Dick Bingham will get us a detention. We need to be smart about this."

Jace's eyebrows shot up at that, but then he was gone, standing in the middle of a clearing. It was late summer and the sun broke through the thick green foliage of an old oak tree in front of him. The grass at his feet was thick and soft; plush with life. He couldn't help but wonder where he was so that he could visit this place again. He sat down and closed his eyes, rejoicing in the soft buzz of nature around him. It was peaceful and good here, and he felt oddly at home in this strange place.

A delighted squeal sounded behind him and he spun to see who was coming. He caught sight of Clary's familiar flaming red hair, which was tied back in twin pigtails. She looked a little older still here, perhaps around thirteen. Will trailed after her, hands out as if he meant to tickle her sides or grab her. She turned her head back and looked at him with such naked affection that Jace's chest felt constricted and he had to look away for a moment.

"You can't catch me," she teased.

He grinned wickedly and wiggled his eyebrows. "Wanna bet?"

"Come and get me," she beckoned, a happy smile dancing across her lips.

Will made a lunge for her just as Celia marched into the clearing. Will had succeeded in grabbing Clary and she shot them an exasperated glance.

"If you two aren't dating, stop flirting. Really. It's gross. Lars and Johnny are bad enough.

Will laughed and released Clary, who started blushing a bright crimson to match her hair. "Will and I are friends." She said quickly. "Just friends."

Celia looked like she didn't believe that and, Jace had to admit, he didn't either. Even now, knowing that this was just a memory, something that had happened before he and Clary had even met, he was envious watching the two of them.

He jolted with shock as Simon walked through him into the area in front of Larla and Jonathan. Simon looked up at the tree.

"You guys are idiots," He muttered.

Clary breezed past him the trunk of the ancient oak. "Oh, cool it Simon. We've done this like, a gillion times before. It's just a tree. Easy-peasy. If anything, scaling my brownstone the day I forgot my keys was _much_ more dangerous."

Simon shook his head. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Please, Clares. Don't do it. You're just asking to get hurt."

Will sighed and slid over. "Simon, it'll be fine. I'm going up with her. If she falls, I'll catch her. I always have, haven't I?"

Simon glared at him. "What about at Luke's lake house?"

Will rolled his eyes. "I told her not to do that, that time, and I was going to get Luke to stop her when she decided to do it anyways."

Clary looked over her shoulder at them. "Will had nothing to do with that one. It was all me. Even my mom agreed."

"Clary," Simon appealed. "You broke your arm. This tree is like, quadruple that size. If you fall here, you'll probably kill yourself."

She looked at him, agitated, as she started pulling off her shoes. "You worry too much."

Simon frowned and tilted his thumb at Will. "I wouldn't worry if _he _ didn't encourage you and give me cause to be."

Will groaned. "Would you rather she do it alone, man, or I go with her? Cause you know she doesn't care if she has a safety net, she just takes the leap whenever she wants."

"Yeah," Simon said. "And it kills me."

Will sighed. "Just drop it, Si. You're not going to stop anything now. Anyone else interested in coming with us?"

Celia shook her head. "I agree with Simon. You're both seriously screwed up in the head."

"Aw, Glitter. Are you scared?" Will joked.

She scowled. "No, but I'd rather be the one laughing on the ground when you screw up than hating you in the tree when it happens."

"Thanks for your faith, Ceals." Clary snorted.

Celia beamed. "'Welcome."

"Lars? Johnny?" Will asked.

Larla stepped back. "I don't do heights." She said.

Jonathan lifted a small video recorder. "Sorry. Gotta film this, Will."

Will nodded. "Alrighty then. Looks like it's just you and me, Lady."

Clary smiled. "Race you to the top."

"You're on."

Simon pulled out a stop watch. "OK. Ready. Set. GO!"

Clary and Will jumped onto the lowest branches they could reach and started climbing. Celia craned her neck to follow their progress and Simon stared intently at his stopwatch.

"One thirty!" He called.

A crack echoed across the clearing and Clary yelped.

"Will!" she cried.

Jace stood up, heart pounding, as Clary's body tumbled from the emerald embrace of the oak.

"CLARY!" Will's voice was a hoarse scream, and then, he two, tumbled from the crown into which he had ascended.

And then everything went black as the memory ended.


	89. Chapter 87

Rachel grinned at Will. She knew it had only been a few months since she had last seen him, but it felt like forever. His presence was like some drug that you slowly got addicted to without realizing it, and when you experienced sudden withdrawal, it was painful beyond reckoning.

He hadn't changed in the least. He was still wearing the leather jacket she had brought him for his birthday the year before and underneath that was the faded blue voodoo MIKA t-shirt he loved so much. His black hair was the same beautiful rumpled mess, like crumpled velvet. He glanced away from his discussion with Jamie for a minute to smile a little at her, and she melted. His smiles were little gifts from heaven, and his eyes were like if someone had fashioned the stars into sapphires and stuck them in his face. 'Attractive' wasn't even a fitting word for him anymore. He was just so perfectly, so irritably wonderful Rachel didn't even know how to feel anymore.

They had broken up last summer when he had told her that he was moving back to New York. She had been furious with him—leaving right when they were getting serious, and had gone so far as to throw her tuner, rosin, and stand at his head. He had dodged all of them successfully before wrapping her up in his arms. She had wept all over his shirt, but he hadn't minded in the least. Looking at him now, she wondered if turning down his offer at a distance relationship had been a bad idea. Things hadn't been the same after he left, and she wasn't sure she would ever find someone she loved as much as him.

Jamie got up to get a drink at a bar and Will turned to her, studying her as he waited for her to make the first move.

"Do you remember the day we met?" She asked.

He nodded. "You grudgingly accepted that I might be a better musician than I was. We eyed each other for weeks before you decided that you didn't mind me too badly."

She grinned. "I don't see how anyone can be bothered by you. You're too nice. And too funny."

He looked at her for a minute, trying to decide if that was a compliment or if she was mocking him. It made her sad to think he had to think about it. "Thanks, Rachel." He said at last.

She looked down. She felt like she was going to cry for some reason all of a sudden. He reached out and grabbed her hand and her head snapped up, surprised at the contact. She watched him with wide eyes as he cracked her knuckles and brushed against the calluses she had from playing with his own slender fingers. He used to do it all the time, and it felt strange that he was doing it now.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

He dropped her hand. "Sorry. Old habits, you know."

He glanced at the space around them quickly. "So where's Beast? I, for one, am offended that he didn't show."

Rachel smiled briefly. "Back home. He got snared into doing the winter performances. He was very hacked off that he couldn't come with us."

Will's brow scrunched in confusion. "But Allison usually does those cause she knows that he hates them and he lets her because she loves them."

Rachel shrugged. "Mr. Lawrence wouldn't hear of them switching this year. Of course, it might have something to do with Beast mouthing off more than usual to him, but," she looked at him with wide eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "We all know what a _fair_ and _patient _teacher he is."

Will laughed and Rachel couldn't help but rejoice in the sound. He was always laughing. It was his own little music when he didn't have his viola around. He played with one of the forks on the table. "What about you though? Still concert mistress?"

She sat up a little straighter with pride. "Yep. Cole tried to challenge me at the beginning of the year, but needless to say, I shut that dream down quickly. Jamie's still sitting primary second, if you're wondering. He hates it, but he deals with it. Lawrence isn't about to move him."

Will shook his head. "We told him not to mess with the baton collection, especially when Lawrence seemed so lenient, but he had to do it anyways. Man, he's going to be sitting in that spot until the day he graduates."

Rachel laughed. "I don't know how we're going to manage Department Wars this year without you. Sure, we've got Beast, but you two were like, the greatest tag team ever. No one ever stood a chance."

Will beamed with happiness. "We were, weren't we? We certainly had those Stage Hogs running for their lives."

"Oh, yeah." She said.

"So who's my replacement?" He asked. "And what's the Messrs.' Quartet been up to? I've been wondering about you guys."

Rachel crinkled her nose. "It's a girl, and she's terrible. She's arrogant beyond belief about how good she is. She heard rumors about you and how you're gone now and said that you obviously weren't that good if you got kicked out. I had to set her straight…in the back alley."

Will looked at her, surprised. "Rache," he started. "You don't really need to live up to your namesake you know."

She waved his comment away. "Beast helped. It was his idea in the first place. He hates her."

"Oh no." Will said, staring at her in horror. "What did that poor girl do to him? Beast hating you is not a good thing."

Rachel smiled grimly. "She flirted with him, and he looked at her, like 'what the hell is your problem, get away from me you crazy girl' and she just…didn't. She won't get off his back. He can't stand the wench."

"Is that what you're calling her then? The Wench?"

Rachel grinned happily. "Officially, she's 'The-Dumb-Wench-Who-Wishes-She-Was-As-Cool-As-Will , but yeah, Wench for short."

"I take it she's not in the quartet then?"

Rachel scowled. "No way and never. The Messrs will and always will consist of Die Rache, The Poof, the Prodigy, and The Beast."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said.

"Then come back," she offered.

He shook his head. "Rache…I can't. The Departed, my friends…"

"Are all here." She said softly. "And your Lady as well."

He looked up at her with sad eyes. "My Lady has a boyfriend, you know, Rache."

Rachel swallowed and looked him in the eye, trying to decide what offer he was implying to her.

**Author's Note:**

I'm considering writing up a story about Will's time in Chicago and giving you guys a little more background on Rachel, Jamie, and the mysterious 'Beast'. I'd write under a separate title, but only if enough people were interested. Please let me know your opinion in the reviews!


	90. Chapter 88

Jace pulled away and stared at Clary for a few minutes. She squirmed under her gaze, but didn't look up at him.

"So that's why you're afraid of heights," he said.

She glared up at him and punched his arm.

"HEY!" he said. "I'm just going for the comic relief angle here."

She sighed. "I know. Sorry. It's just…scarring moment of my life there, huge turning point. It's kinda hard to joke about, you know?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He kissed her temple quickly. "I understand."

The moment was ruined by Simon making an appearance and plopping down in the booth opposite them.

"Lewis," Jace started.

Simon held up a hand. "Before you start chewing me over about disturbing your 'alone time', I'll have you know that it was Izzy's idea to come up here, not mine."

Jace looked at Simon skeptically. "You seriously think I'm going to believe that?"

Simon shrugged. "Hey, she sent me up her ahead. She wanted to chat with Americes for a sec and get some drinks."

"Why aren't you getting the drinks?" Clary wondered aloud.

Simon glanced at her reproachfully. "Because Iz was all like 'go find Clary and Jace I'm going to talk to Ams and get something to drink.'"

Jace rolled his eyes. "Did you at least get any cake?"

"Why would I get cake?" Simon demanded, gesturing widely as he ranted. "I can't even _eat_ it anymore."

"That's just terrible," Clary commented.

"And besides, it was _strawberry shortcake_. Who gets strawberry shortcake?"

"I did. For my ninth birthday party. But you and Will started fighting with it. I think he shoved it down your pants at one point."

Simon's expression turned dark at the memory. "Precisely why I hate the stuff. I still need to get him back for that."

"And he needs to get you back for the coke wars."

Simon grinned. "Not so long ago in a backyard not so far away…"

"Don't," Jace said. "Just…don't."

"Have you even ever _seen_ Star Wars?" Simon inquired.

Jace blinked. "Star what?"

Simon rubbed his hands maliciously. "I've just come up with a whole new set of jokes that are going to soar right over your head, making them all the funnier."

Clary watched him dubiously. "When did that even start?"

Simon shrugged. "I don't even know anymore. Back when Will was still calling you by your full name, I think. I can't even remember who through the gauntlet down first though, so don't ask me."

"Has Will ever called you 'Clary'?" Jace wondered, then winced. Yes he had, as they both had been falling from the soft embrace of the crown of the tree they'd been climbing.

Clary didn't seem to notice, though. She shook her head. "Nope. Never. He called me Clarissa for the longest of times, and then we settled on 'Lady', and that's pretty much what he's called me ever since."

Jace stared at her funny for a moment as something clicked in his head. "Is that why you hate it when I call you that? Because it was something he always did?"

She ducked her head bashfully. "I guess so."

Simon picked a handful of chips up out of the basket that was perpetually on the table and started making patterns on the table with them "There are a lot of things that each of them do that they only let one another do. Example: Clary is allowed to draw on Will's hands, but no one else can."

Jace turned curiously to Simon, acutely aware that Simon was willing to tell him more night now than Clary was. "What else?"

Simon stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Well, Clary can touch Will's violas, and if anyone else tries, it's basically asking for him to hunt you down, and Clary will eat his eggs, but no one else's."

Jace gaped at her. "I made you eggs once though and you ate them."

Clary looked like a cornered animal. "Actually, I didn't. I don't usually like eggs at all."

"But you'll eat Will's." he said dryly.

"To be fair," Simon said, leaning forward and trying to put a monopoly on Jace's attention. "Will makes some mean omelets. The best chef in the world wished he could make omelets like Will can. It's all fluffy and soft and cheesy and yum." His expression turned somber. "I'm going to miss those omelets. They were delicious."

Jace looked decidedly unimpressed.

"Anyways," Simon said, brightening up. "Will can look at Clary's sketch-diary, and she hates it when other people do, and Will's more comfortable playing original works around Clary than anyone else. There are more, I'm sure, but that's all I can remember for right now."

Clary thumped her head down on the table. "I'm tired, don't judge me," she muttered when Simon and Jace glanced at her with equal puzzlement.

Jace's mouth twitched up in the corner in a crooked smiled. He reached out and smoother her hair down with his hand. "You're cute when you're tired." He murmured.

Clary closed her eyes and smiled a little. Simon made gagging motions. Isabelle sashayed up to the table and scrutinized him for a moment.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked blankly.

He straightened up and shrugged. She rolled her eyes and slid in next to him. She jerked her head at Clary.

"What's her problem?"

"I'm sleeping." She groaned. She raised a finger to her lips. "Shhhh."

Jace grinned. "I love you." He told the back of Clary's head. He shot his gaze over to Izzy. "Leave her alone."

Izzy looked bored. "I see I've joined the crazy table, or are you all just high?"

Simon looked at her solemnly. "That is a distinct possibility. I noticed some strange smoke while we were on the dance floor." He leaned forward and stage-whispered, "They might be gassing us."

Izzy bopped him on the head.

"Ow. What was that for?" he demanded, looking hurt.

"For being stupid." Jace replied for her.

"What were you two doing up her anyways?" Izzy asked, looking curious.

Jace shrugged. "Clary wanted to tell me about…something."

Simon looked baffled for a moment, and then he sighed. "So she finally told you about the Incident of Promise Nine,"

Jace looked at him blankly and Simon shook his head. "A story for another time, then."

"Can we go home now?" Clary grumbled.

Jace patted her shoulder. "Do you want to?"

She nodded against the table. "Yes. Yes, I very much want to go home now."

Jace stood up. "Alright. Come on. I'll take you home." He waved to Izzy as Clary stumbled to her feet next to him. "See ya."

She nodded and leaned her head on Simon's shoulder. He settled his arm around her waist.

"Now what?" she asked.

Author's note: I started a story about Will's background, labeled simply as 'Will' for now. I'll probably change the title. A lot of drama is about to happen. If you ever get concerned, though, remember the sneak peek. Hold me to that promise if I don't follow through with it. The section that I threw out there will be appearing in a later chapter, so no worries if you missed it.

Yours,  
Nerd Girl Nithagria


	91. Chapter 89

Will stood in the music room. On a whim, he had forsaken his usual viola and had brought his electric. Forget classical, he was rocking through Electric Light Orchestra's Essentials album, while Jamie looked on approvingly and occasionally banged out some accompanying chords on the piano. It felt good to be back with Jamie and Rache, as a small change of pace.

Rachel clapped from her perch on the window sill when he finished, and he dipped into a deep bow.

"Thank you, thank you. I know, I'm amazing. I can't help it."

Jamie picked up his rosin, studied it for a moment, then threw it at his head. "Calm yourself, Prodg. You're not playing in the big leagues yet."

Will shot him a glance and waved his bow at him. "But one day, I will be. Just you watch."

Jamie put his hands up in surrender. "Hey—what you want to do with your life is up to you. Just remember that you have the Clave to answer to at the end of the day. You and Beast, man. You're so devoted to music it's not even funny anymore."

Will rolled his eyes and started playing some intentionally unturned high notes. Jamie covered his ears with his hands. "Stop it. Stop it. IT BURNS US! IT BURNS US!"

Will looked down at him with grim humor, and stopped playing. "You know, Jamie, you haven't changed one bit since the day we met."

Jamie looked up at him with wide eyes. "No?"

Will shook his head sadly. "You are still a sad, strange little man, and you have my pity."

Jamie jumped up and frowned at him. "You are a child's play thing!"

Will raised his brows and his viola again. "Jamie, you gots to do better than that."

Jamie got up in Will's face. "Okay, come on. You want a piece of me?"

Will looked Jamie up and down. "No. I most definitely do not want anything from you."

Jamie snorted and sat back down as Clary appeared hesitating, in the doorway, Jace and Izzy behind her.

"I thought I heard you playing," she said quietly, "But…"

"No, please, come in. Enjoy our little musical get-together" Jamie said. "I think Will was just about to challenge Rachel to a little duel."

Will frowned. "I was not—"

"Oooo." Jamie said. "That's right, I forgot. You're afraid that she might be better than you."

Will narrowed his eyes. "Uh-huh. Right. I see what you're doing, Puff Monster. Let me tell you, it's not going to work."

Rachel stood up and pulled out her violin. "You know, Will. I think he might be right. I mean, usually you jump at the chance to play against me. Why should today be any different?" She grinned wickedly at him, and Will slowly smiled back.

"Alright then," he said, swinging up his bow to play one long, resounding note. "Bring it on, Rache. That is, if you think you can take me."

She harmonized against her note and they began to circle each other slowly at a tight angle. "Bring it on," she said.

Will didn't smile, didn't laugh, didn't narrow his eyes at her, he just launched into a complicated melody full of double stops, tricky rhythms, and complicated shifts. Rachel responded in kind and they wrapped their melodies around each other until neither of them were aware of the world around them anymore, devoting themselves instead to the rise and fall of the music; breathing in every note to fill up and live.

Rachel was good, Will couldn't deny that. If she devoted herself to her violin a little bit more; if she wanted to succeed in her craft as much as he did, she probably could have met his talent or surpassed it, but he knew that at the end of the day that for her, this was just a hobby. They used to have fights about it. He had always pushed her to try harder and she had always told him that his dreams were unrealistic.

It didn't matter when they played though, if they were angry or in love, or changed or confused. It was just them and the music. No matter what, they had always been able to understand each other on that level. He slid into E flat and then C sharp; a tricky change and hardly ever a clean sounding transition.

She matched him for it and moved to take the lead, jumping through a complicated set of notes that he let her have.

He countered with some heavy c string shuffles and a glissando.

She played a counter-melody that made his heart ache.

He was totally wrapped up in what he was doing now. He hadn't realized how much he had loved playing with her, with all of them, really. Jace was alright, but the in the pieces they played, he always stuck to the harmonies and never really challenged Will's skill. Rachel did, and Beast, and Jamie. All of them had, on a regular basis, bringing each other up to a whole new level in musical talent that Will had never been able to get enough of it.

He moved to D major and just played eighths, letting her steal the stage for a moment, and bless her if she didn't shine. She let up to give him a little space to work his magic, and he did his best to impress. He was fully devoted to winning now; forcing her to stop and allow him to go out solo and finish what they had started.

When he finished his melody, she joined in again, pulled them into F minor and, just to spite her, he played along in A flat major, giving their sweet music and strange twang. She played faster and faster and he could tell that she was coiling up, waiting for the final spring when she would try to force him out. He whirled along after her into the vortex of sound she had created and when the long release came after, he held his breath as he heard her settle into the starting note and play a series of quick strong chords. She had yielded then.

He continued to play for a few bars more, sliding his fingers up and down the finger board and rejoicing in the power the music lent him. He finished with a long sweep of his bow and opened his eyes, panting a little. Rachel twisted her mouth up in a smile.

"I guess you can win today," she said.

He smiled back and slid his viola under his arm. "You were brilliant." His voice was quiet.

She ducked her head modestly. "You were better."

Will swallowed, because in that moment, he wanted to reach out and brush her hair back and kiss her like he used to. Jamie coughed indiscreetly and Will was reminded that he wasn't alone. He stepped back and raised his eyes to Clary's. He couldn't tell if she was horrified or awestruck. Jace's face was carefully blank. Will's heart went leaden in his chest.

"Show's over," he said, and bent down to pack up his viola.

Beside him, Rachel did the same.


	92. Chapter 90

Clary sucked in a breath as Will and Rachel finished playing. They're playing had been so incredible, it was if they had woven a whole new world for themselves in the music. Anyone could see that Rachel was an amazingly talented violinist, and although Clary hated admitting it to herself, she could see why Will had loved her. She looked at Jace and realized that he was just as caught up in the music as everyone else was. The song had been like some faerie spell; wild and beautiful and strange.

Will was panting as he packed up his viola, and he looked at Rachel and smiled, like if they shared a secret. Usually, he looked at her like that. Clary's stomach lurched, but she was distracted when Jace slid his arm around her and snaked his head down to whisper in her ear.

"Do you want to get out of here?" He asked. "I mean, no offence, I know you like hanging out with Will and all, but I think he's a little too busy for you right now." He nodded his head towards where Will, who had slid his viola case over his back and was chatting with Rachel and Jamie, laughing at some joke that one of them had made now and then.

She swallowed and nodded. Selfish as if was, she didn't like thinking about the life Will had lived without her. She supposed she had always pictured him frozen in some sort of limbo, like if his life could only exist so long as she was around. How wrong she had been. She was barely holding back tears. She glanced back at Will. He didn't even turn his head to acknowledge her as she slid out the door after Jace.

"What do you want to do?" Jace asked once they were in the hall.

She bit her lip and tilted her head back and studied the ceiling. "Dinner?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow questioningly at him.

He nodded. "Sure. Where at? Taki's or the Flying Valk."

"Taki's." she said firmly.

"Alright." He watched her out of the corner of his eyes as they ambled down the hallway towards the door. "So what's wrong?" he asked.

Clary did a quick double take. "What do you mean, what's wrong?"

He smiled. "You've been alternating looking at Rachel as if you're planning on murdering her, or like if she murdered your mother or something. Clary, it's weird. So Will's ex shows up. Shouldn't you be happy for him?"

She scratched the back of her neck. "I don't know. I'm just so used to…"

"Being the only girl he ever loved and getting to bask in his unconditional and unwavering adoration?"

She looked away. "Yeah. I suppose I'm a bit self-centered like that." She glanced over at Jace. Tension ran through his jaw and down his neck. He looked like he was trying very hard to quell his anger. She reached out and placed her hand gently on his bicep. "And I should stop being such an ass about Rachel and swallow my choices. I didn't choose Will in the long run. I chose _you_."

He looked at her and smiled briefly as he jabbed the button for the elevator and leaned against the wall to wait for it.

"Do you think you'll ever be able to do it? Give Will up?"

Clary hesitated, then shook her head. "Not completely, no. I think he's always going to be my biggest 'what-if'." She stared him in the eye. "I think no matter what I chose, it would have been like that, and it's a terrible decision, but I made it and I'm going to see it through."

He smiled for real this time and pulled her up next to him. She snuggled into his side happily as he started showing her head with random kisses.

"I think," he said, "That I'm glad Rachel's here because as stupid as it is, I'm still afraid that I'm going to lose you somehow. It's there sometimes; this feeling in the pit of my stomach that one day you're going to walk away and never come back, and I look at Will and I can't help but notice the way you get around him, like if he's the only thing that really matters. I've known since I met him that if you ever left, you'd go running to him, but now Rachel's around, and you can't go running anywhere. Does it make me a horrible person that that makes me happy?"

She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. "So do you hate him?"

"No. I can't bring myself to. At least, not fully. I have too much respect for him, both as a musician and as a fighter. He was born to do both, anyone can see that. Then there's the fact he would do anything for you if he thought it would bring you joy, and I can understand that too." He nuzzled her neck. "So long as he stays away from you romantically, I can tolerate him."

She laughed as their elevator arrived and pulled away from him. "You know," she offered. "I'm perfectly fine with staying here too."

He pulled away from the wall, his eyes very dark, but then he shook his head. "I don't know if I…If I can handle that," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion.

She reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand, bringing his face inched from her own. "Slowly, then. Slow and steady wins the race, doesn't it?"

He smiled shakily at her and pulled her close as he kissed her. "I love you," He muttered.

She pulled away first, but didn't stop leaning into him, soaking in his presence. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and under her fingertips she could feel that his was too. "I love you, too." She breathed.

She stepped back into the elevator, pulling him along with her, and studied their image in the mirrors around them. They looked like any old happy couple: He had his arm circled around her waist and she stood close enough to him that there wasn't a hairs-width of space. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head on top of hers, content, she knew, to stay like this forever.

Against her will, he mind wandered to the moment in the music room when she had seen the way Will had looked at Rachel. Her heart squeezed in pain, and she wanted to scream. Jace managed to find peace and calm in this relationship, but somehow, she grew more restless and miserable by the day. Jace had been right, though. Even if she did leave, she had nowhere to run to.

Author's note:

I'm going to be on vacation for a few days, so I probably won't be able to update this again until the weekend. For now, though, please share your thoughts and comment on where you would like to see this story go.

Yours  
Nerd Girl Nithagria


	93. Chapter 91

Ky walked down the hallway towards the stairs. He wanted to go home. He had felt terrible ever since the night of Americe birthday party; he hadn't even seen her the entire time he was there. He had closed his eyes for a second, only to have Celia tap his shoulder hours later and wake him up. Alec had been gone and the strange realization that had been nagging at the back of his mind since Nick had started singing had just grown and grown. He needed to talk to Alec, but he was afraid. He needed to think, but his thoughts just ran in circles. It was terrible.

A door opened next to him and someone pulled him inside a room. Ky immediately tensed up, getting ready to fight whatever was coming at him now, but it was only Nick.

"Ky," he said.

Ky sighed, banging his head against the wall as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "What do you want now, Nicholas?"

Nick scratched the back of his neck. "I dunno. To talk, I guess." He smiled crookedly. "I can't help myself around you, I need to reach out and take you as mine." He sighed. "What the hell happened, Ky? What led us to this? To you harboring me in this bitter place that was never there before and me watching you with equal parts hate for letting me go and guilt for being the cause of it?" He shook his head and plopped down on the ground. "Everything is just so screwed up right now, and I don't know what to do anymore. You always cleared my head. We need to talk. We need to clean up this mess. We need to do _something_ so we're not miserable anymore."

Ky looked at the boy who sat in front of him. He wanted to weep for Nick. Nick had always been full of life, bursting with energy, and now here he sat, broken as a discarded doll. They were both broken. They sat on a delicate edge of the knife blade of acceptance. Sitting there was a difficult thing to do. Getting pitched off the edge all on your lonesome was worse. So Ky swallowed his hurt and slid into the space next to his ex-boyfriend. Nick, without really thinking about it, leaned his head against Ky's shoulder. Ky let him.

"But I don't know what to do." He blew out a harsh laugh. "You were always the one who charged on when everyone looked down at us, we took my hand and led me through the disapproving crowd, giving everyone hell if need be." He looked at Nick. "You were the man with the plan. I just followed behind."

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8." Nick muttered. "You had that posted on my refrigerator door. I always carry it with me now, you know."

"Why?" Ky asked.

"Because it's a way to hold on to you." Nick smiled. "You never realized how special you were. You light up rooms when you walk in. You're so wonderfully, perfectly, purely, good. You bless the people who are able to be near you with that. It's like sunshine, smiles." He sat up and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "And me? I'm just junk. Afraid of what I am. I had bravado, sure, but in the end, that's just smoke and mirrors. Take that away and there's nothing left but the coward huddled behind the curtain. You? You were the strong one. You endured everything that the world threw at you patiently."

"I always had you to look forward to." Ky said quietly. He reached out and took Nick's hand. "How many times did you pick me up when I stumbled and told me that it didn't matter anyways? How many times did you hold me as I wept into your shoulder because I didn't think I could do it anymore? Countless, Nicholas. You're not a bad person, just misguided."

"Then why won't you take me back?" Nick asked.

Ky sighed and dropped Nick's hand. "Because I've moved on with my life, I think. The past is the past." He looked at Nick steadily. "Bygones be bygones. I've accepted what you did, forgiven you, I supposed. The scar is there, though Nick, and it's not about to go away. I can't forget it."

Nick turned and looked at Ky. "That black haired boy. The handsome one. You love him?"

Ky considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. I think I do."

Nick smiled shakily. "He's good to you? Makes you happy?"

Ky nodded more readily this time. "Like a little burst of sunlight every time I see him."

Nick swallowed and Ky reached out and touched his shoulder. Nick reached up and held Ky's hand there, squeezing it gently.

"I was scared," Nick said suddenly. "I was afraid of where we were going, of how serious we were getting. I didn't know what to do, so when Star came up to me at our cast party, I didn't say no. I didn't want to think about us anymore. I wish I been smarter. I wish I had acted differently."

Ky pulled Nick closer to him. "It's in the past now though. Wishes can do nothing."

"If wishes were kisses…" Nick started, silently rejoicing in the feel of Ky's arms around him again, even if it was temporary. "I'll always love you," he breathed.

"And I will too, but I think it's time we both stopped being foolish."

Nick turned around and looked at Ky. "You were always smarter than me."

"You were the dreamer, though. You lifted me up to fly."

"And you anchored me in the terrible confusion of the world." Nick said. He stood up, pulling Ky up with him. "I'm never going to forget you."

Ky smiled. "I'll forever keep you in heart."

"You really think there's hope for me?"

"Oh, Nicholas. There's hope for everyone."

Nick pulled Ky in a quick hug. "I never did take you to see Fun."

"That's OK. You gave me a thousand more things to cherish."

"I'm sorry, Ky."

"I am too, Nick."

Nick released Ky and pulled open the door. "Don't forget to make the bed now that I'm not around to do it for you."

Ky stepped out and looked at the boy in front of him and fought back tears. "Sometimes leaving it undone is OK."

Nick smiled. "I think you might be on to something there, Kyros."

Ky smiled back. "See ya later, Nick."

"See ya later, Ky."

Ky turned and walked down the hallway. Nick watched him go. He didn't turn around once.


	94. Chapter 92

Alec nocked on Jace's door nervously. Ky's words from the other night kept rolling around in his head. "_Because I think I've finally figured out what I really want."_ The way he had looked at Alec like if had suddenly realized that the answer to a puzzle he'd been working his way through was staring him in the face. It still gave Alec shivers, although he was embarrassed to admit it. It had made him face how he felt about Ky, and he had discovered something he hadn't expected.

Ky mattered to him. A lot. He cared about Ky and what he thought. He liked making the other boy laugh and smile. He loved the way Ky could jump from being light-hearted to being serious when the situation called for it. He couldn't stop marveling at all the little details he hadn't noticed he had noticed. But it wouldn't matter if he couldn't get Jace to help him.

Jace pulled his door open with a quick, wild movement. "Izzy, I told you I haven't seen—Alec." He said, sounding surprised. He lounged against the door frame. "Well I must say this is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"

Alec swallowed. "I need your help with something."

Jace's eyebrows flicked up in bored curiosity and he folded his arms across his chest, not committing to Alec's needs just yet. "Alec, I'm not going to help you make rye bread. Please don't ask."

Alec rolled his eyes. Jace could be so annoying sometimes. "Not that. I need you to get a knife out of a ceiling for me."

Jace stood up, and Alec quietly cheered at his ability to catch his attention.

"How the hell did you get a knife stuck in the ceiling, Alec?"

Alec grinned. "I never said_ I _put it there, I just need help getting it down."

Jace heaved a sigh walked past Alec towards the training room. "Fine. Let's go take care of this."

Alec resisted the urge to laugh. "It's not in the training room," he said.

Jace spun around. "Where is it then? The library? The kitchen? Alec, what did you _do_?"

"I didn't _do _anything. The knife isn't even here. It's at the Cieliserenis."

Jace's eyes went wide with surprise, then narrowed as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Do I want to know?" he asked at last.

Alec shrugged. "Odds are, you'll figure out soon enough. Look, are you going to help me or not?"

Jace stared at him for a moment before nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll help."

[][][]

Jace and Alec stood on the front stoop of the Cieliserenis brownstone. Snow fell gently around them, catching in Alec's black hair and eyelashes. He blinked it away as he rang the doorbell. Jace looked over at him.

"I still don't understand why I'm here." He said.

Alec was saved from having to respond by Celia pulling open the door. She looked pleasantly surprised, if perplexed, by their appearance. "Hey, Alec." She said, smiling. She gave Jace a quick nod in greeting. "Mister Gorgeous. Do come in,"

She opened the door open a little wider so they could step in. Alec studied Jace a few minutes. "Mister Gorgeous?" He asked, trying to hold back a chuckle.

Jace glared at hm. "Don't even go there."

Celia stared at them a minute as they tugged off their boots. "Not to be rude or anything," she said, "But why are you here? I mean, Alec, Ky's training with Mrs. A today, so if you were hoping to see him, you're in the wrong place. Also: Jace?"

Alec stood up and shook the snow out of his hair. "I'm here for the knife," he said, shaking the snow out of his hair.

Celia's eyes got saucer sized, but then she grinned. Unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around Alec in a bear-hug. "Oh, Alec. You have no idea how much I love you right now."

"Well," Jace said dryly. "that's a stunning change of events."

Celia pulled away and frowned at him. "Why are you even here?"

"Because I need him to get it down for me," Alec said. "Now where is it?"

Celia started up the steps. "This way. Our training room's in the attic."

Jace followed along, although a bit grudgingly, and tapped Alec on the shoulder. "I am so confused right now," he said.

Alec smiled. "Doesn't matter."

Jace shook his head. "I think it does."

Alec stopped and looked down at his _parabatai_ and sighed.

"Alec." Jace said.

Celia leaned over the railing, watching their exchange. "It's a personal favor," she said, and both boys looked up. "I threw a knife up in the ceiling and I've practically been begging Alec to come over and help me get it down. To be honest, I had gotten to think he never would."

Jace looked at Alec funny. "Why did you ask Alec?"

Celia shrugged. "He seemed nice enough to help."

Jace shook his head. "Alright, let's get this over with."

The three of them slid up the stairs to the attic, and Jace looked around it, slightly impressed.

"This is nice," he said. "Almost as good as ours."

Celia shrugged. "My parents have a lot of money and they like spending it on top-notch stuff. Ky and I needed a decent space to practice, so they made sure we had one. To be honest, I miss the place we had in LA, and the space the Aingealceols have in their basement is better but, hey. Could be worse, and it's functional enough, I guess."

Jace smiled at her. "Did you just compliment this place….while insulting it at the same time."

Celia smiled deviously and pointed up. "The knife's up there. I don't know how you plan on getting it down. We don't have a ladder, believe me, I've given that a shot, and it's like, the only spot up here that's not in close reach of some rafters."

Jace tilted his head back and studied it. "Do you know how well wedged in there it is?"

Celia sat down. "I'm pretty good, and it hasn't fallen out yet, so my guess—deep. Very deep, or else at enough of an angle that gravity isn't working so well on it."

"Alright," Jace said. "Give me a sec."

Celia rolled her eyes. "I can't even imagine what you're planning on doing. There's no way to—" Jace humped up, spinning around so that his feet were momentarily planted on the ceiling, pulled the knife down, and flipped before landing on his feet. He staggered a step and handed it to a gaping Celia.

"You were saying?" he asked.

She grinned slyly. "Oh, you're good. You're really good." She stood up, taking the knife and eyed him. "Can I get you something to drink? Maybe we can…talk?" She leaned into him breathing him in. Jace's heart, despite his mental objections, raced a little.

"Fine," he said, shrugging, slipping past her.

Celia held the knife out to Alec before going to follow Jace. "I think," she said, "You know what to do with this? Second door on the left, by the way." She winked at him and sauntered out the door, leaving Alec to stare at the blade she had placed in his hand.


	95. Chapter 93

Will was sparring with thin air. He genuinely liked fighting, not as much as playing the viola, but it was still alright. It was another thing that was easy for him to get lost in. It was almost like meditating. It certainly helped focus his whirling thoughts on Rachel and Clary. He was disturbed when someone called to him from the doorway.

"I do believe," Rachel said from her position on the threshold, "That I had this place reserved today."

Will shrugged, but didn't bother hiding the wry smile that danced across his lips. "First come, first serve."

She sauntered up until she was just inches from him. Will swallowed and tried to calm his racing pulse.

"That's Bull," she said. "And you know it." Quick as a butterfly, she swerved, giggling, away before he could catch her. She grinned at him and wiggled her fingers. "Too fast for you!"

Will chuckled and slid towards her. "Come on, Rache. No games."

She smiled at him. "Oh, I'm not playing any games." She swung her leg up in a round house kick, which he dodged easily before reaching out to snare her in his arms. She laughed as she danced away.

"You wanna mess with me, Mr. Muse? Almighty Prodigy? You really want to go at this, Will? Cause if you do, you've gotta ask yourself a question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk? Do ya?"

Will smiled. "_Dirty Harry_? Really, Rachel? You can do better, I'm sure."

She took a swipe at him. He dodged and retaliated. She slid out of his reach and circled him. "Like what?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know. Anything other than that."

Rachel rolled her eyes and tried another assault. He parried until she disengaged, panting a little now, a wild look in her eyes. "You know," she said. "We could just keep doing this forever if you're not going to try anything."

Will snapped his fingers. "Hey—don't test me, or I might."

She laughed at him. "Like what? You're attached to that overgrown blade of yours. You can't be me in a hand-to-hand fight. Never have, never will."

"Hey!" Will objected. "It is not…what you called it. It is a claymore. Beastie gave it to me."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh really? Huh. Fun fact."

He smiled wickedly and dove in with a quick series of movements. She weaved in and out, countering his attack easily. "You are soooo out of your element."

Will rolled his neck. "Oh, I think my chances are pretty good."

Rachel looked at him from under her lashes. "Then come and get me."

Will chuckled and reached out to grab her again as she tried to slide past him. She kicked off the wall and flipped through the air.

"Now you're just showing off," he groaned.

She did a little victory dance. "Better than what you're doing."

"Come on, Rache. Stop teasing me."

She tilted her head back and laughed. "No way. I'm having too much fun."

Will shook his head and started walking away.

"God, you are such a _tease_." She said, maybe a foot or so behind him. Quick as a viper Will spun around and pinned her against the wall, anchoring his hands above her head. He smiled.

"Looks like you've been caught, Rache."

She squirmed a little in the sliver of space her provided her and the slumped against the wall, going lim. "It would appear so," she said mournfully. Her eyes flickered up to his. They were the same pale blue that hugged the horizon around noon. "Unless you plan on letting me out?" She asked.

Will tilted her head and studied her. "Haven't decided yet."

"Well then." She said, pouting. "What about your Lady?"

He leaned forward until their noses almost brushed. "You're playing with fire, Rache."

Rachel's breath was rough. She could see Will's pulse racing in his throat, competing with her own to see which could go faster. "Then let's see if I get burned, hmm?" and she closed the miniscule distance between them, wrapping her hands around his neck as she pressed her lips against his. He staggered back, startled for a moment, surprised, but then he gave in.

In the end, he always gave in.

[][][]

Clary walked with Izzy up to the training room. She had stopped by earlier to see Jace, only to learn he had left a little bit earlier with Alec. She wanted to talk to him. Her two week deadline was up, and she still felt the same way about Will, but at the same time, she couldn't help the way she reacted whenever she was around Jace. Then there was the whole Rachel and Jamie wild card debacle. It was confusing, and she needed some time off from the both of them as she tried to figure it out. Izzy had sensed something was up and had offered to help with training so she could get her mind off things.

"Thanks again, Iz," Clary said, climbing the last few steps, glancing over her shoulder to look at her.

Isabelle shrugged. "No problem. Will you please tell me what's bothering you though?"

Clary shook her head as she walked through the door. "Look, Izzy, I'm sorry but it's just too hard to—Oh."

Will and Rachel were making out passionately in the middle of the training room floor. Isabelle frowned and looked at Clary. "It was bad enough when it was just you and Jace being explicit in here. Seriously, this place has extra rooms. Why does no one bother to use them?"

Clary didn't respond. She couldn't look away, but she wanted to, very, very badly. This was her worst nightmare come to life. Isabelle tapped her shoulder.

"Clary? What's wrong? You look a little pale."

Rachel, who was facing them, opened her eyes, which widened when she realized that she had an audience. She pulled away from Will, muttering something in his ear.

Will spun around, guilt written all over his face. "Lady—" He started.

Clary shook her head, backing away, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to overcome her.

"Lady!" Will called again, but Clary was already sprinting out the door. Will squeezed his eyes shut. "Dammit." He muttered.

"Will?" Rachel asked, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

Will slid away, unable to ward of the crushing sense of despair that was filling him. Too late he realized that it wasn't Rachel who was going to end up getting burned, but him.

Isabelle stared him down. "What the hell was that?" she asked.

Will looked at her miserably. "Me being stupid," he said. The he stalked past her out the door, hoping to catch Clary before it was too late.


	96. Chapter 94

Will caught up with Clary as she was waiting for the elevator.

"Lady," he begged.

She wheeled on him. "Don't. Even. Start with me, William."

That made Will mad. Who was _she _to judge _him_ over a single kiss. "Oh, yes, Clarissa, because we all know you haven't even acted spontaneously over the past few weeks."

Her face turned an angry scarlet, both with disbelief that he was calling her out on what had happened and humiliation that he had. It was a good thing that Jace wasn't around.

"That doesn't matter! What _matters_ is that suddenly you're making out with some girl in the training room that I _barely _know and you expect me, me of all people, to be OK with it!"

Will could feel his anger rising, a white hot passion that he wasn't sure he'd be able to control. He'd never been truly mad at Clary before. Distantly, he realized that they were having what was probably their first real fight. If things weren't escalating as they were, he could've laughed at how ridiculous it seemed. He never fought with Clary. They got along too well with each other for that.

"Oh, and you expected me to be OK with you dating some random dude you met at a club?"

Clary scoffed. "He's more than that and you know it. We've been through a lot together. Almost as much as you and me!"

Will ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end. "And does that history not count or something! Clarissa, you knew how much I loved you, yet when Si broke up with you, you never once came to me asking if that was still the case. You just kept mooning over a boy you couldn't have."

Clary glared at him in angry silence for a few minutes before practically imperceptibly stomping her foot. "That's not fair!" she screamed. "I thought we were over!"

"YOU COULD"VE ASKED!" he shouted back. Mentally, Will cringed. He knew he was acting very poorly, but he couldn't help himself. She was baiting him on; not giving him a chance to stop and think about things. This was moving too fast and he didn't know how to slow it down so that he could start being civil with her. So that they could solve their differences at least a little calmly and kindly.

"Why should I have to?" She sobbed. "If you were so concerned, why didn't _you_ say anything!"

He groaned. "Because you never gave me the chance!"

She looked at him like she wanted to punch him in the face. "Oh, that's bull shit William and you know it." The elevator opened with a bing and she stepped inside. She started closing the screen, but he forcibly pushed it open and followed her inside. She wasn't getting away that easily. He wasn't going to let her. Not until this fight had run its course.

"Then if you're so all over Mister Fantastic, Clarissa," he hissed. "Then why the hell did you sleep with me, hmm? You obviously knew how I still felt about you. I think I implied that that had never changed—"

She had been stewing, staring at the mirrors with a snarl on her face and her arms folded across her chest. She spun and cut him off though, poking him in the chest with her finger. "_Implied, _William? That's nowhere near good enough. Either say how you feel or don't, but never leave it to someone to read in your body language. How you feel about things, whether or not you love people especially, should never be left to implication!"

"Then how," he asked, voice deadly quiet, "Was I supposed to know that you would react so badly to me kissing Rachel? I haven't heard a peep from you all this time, but Rache? She's been around, Clarissa, and you knew and you never objected. So excuse me for thinking that for once, since I've come back, you had given me leave to go ahead and be _happy._ I'm sorry I read your bloody implications wrong."

She glared at him. "You knew I loved you. You knew what I was planning on doing. I didn't say anything because I couldn't! I'm sorry that I thought you'd be smart enough to figure that out. Obviously, you're just too stupid and too easily distracted by a pretty face to do so."

Will narrowed his eyes at her. She was trying his patience, really pushing him to the brink like she never had before. A small, furious part of him wanted to strangle her for her insolence then and there. Had he not always been unfailingly kind and loyal to her? Always putting her own well-being before his own? Was it too much to ask for a little break every now and then? "I take what I said back," he said, not bothering to mask his wrath. "I'm not sorry, and to be honest, you've been such a self-centered _bitch _lately, I suppose I shouldn't have expected any such considerate thoughtfulness from you."

Clary gaped at him and the elevator landed on the ground floor with a solid clank. She composed herself quickly though and scowled at him. "You know what? Screw you, William. I can't believe I ever even called you my friend."

"And now you're being such a prima-donna. God, Clarissa. Why can't you ever get it through your thick scull that not everything revolves around you?"

She flicked him off and yanked open the door, marching down the center aisle. Will followed; resentment for her growing with every step.

"Leave me alone, William." She muttered.

"No," he said, jerking the front door open for her. Even now, he couldn't help but be a gentleman. "I won't."

She spun to face him. "And why not? Is it not enough that you have to stab me in the back and crush me? You now have to wiggle the knife around a little and grind what little bit is left into the dirt?"

He laughed humorously. "So what is it now? I'm not allowed to move on with my life? Only you can? You want me to sit around twiddling my thumbs, forever alone for the rest of my life just in case one day you come crawling back? You know what, Clarissa? I don't want to do that anymore!"

"I never asked you too!"

"Not in so many words, but the expectation is there. That's why you're so mad about the idea of me being with Rachel, because you can't stand the idea of me not being your safety net anymore!"

Belatedly, he realized that tears were streaming down her face. She looked so alone and upset, he was torn between wanting to help her and being furious with her.

"Maybe," she said quietly, "Our expectations of each other are too high. Unrealistically high."

He swallowed, not sure how to answer, and realized that he was crying too. It felt like something really horrible was about to happen but he didn't know what.

"I think we should end the Departed," she said. "It's a fancy of the past that we've both grown out of. You've moved on, I've moved on. I think, Will, that it's time we stopped lying to ourselves. The our childhood is gone and can't be revived; let's just call a spade a spade and admit it's all over."

He was too stunned to speak, but every bone in his body wanted to object.

She looked him square in the eyes. "I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to know you." She took a step back. "Please don't bother me again." She turned and started walking away.

"Lady!" he called, once he had unfrozen.

She looked back over her shoulder. "Her eyes were filled with dislike and unhappiness. "Leave me the hell alone," she said.

Rage twisted and knotted in Will's stomach like a snake. "Fine," he snapped. "If that's what you want."

She didn't reply, just kept walking.


	97. Chapter 95

Celia smiled at Jace. He really was pretty attractive, just the sort of boy she'd normal go for. If it wasn't for Clary, she had no idea what she might've done to him by now. But there was Clary, even if Clary was currently the epicenter of Celia's latest problems. Jace, Celia thought, definitely deserved better, but hey, at the end of the day, it was all up to him.

He shoved his hands in his back pockets and leaned against the counter. He practically oozed self-confidence. She had always liked a strong man, she had to say. Involuntarily, she thought of Nick, and something he had said to Ky once when he thought she couldn't hear. Ky had been griping, as always, about how reckless she was, but Nick had shaken his head and smiled. He had said that she had nothing to worry about. That she was dangerous for being a beautiful girl and knowing it.

At the time, Celia had loved Nick for understanding her so perfectly.

Jace, Celia thought, was just the same. He was a beautiful boy who knew he was beautiful and wielded his looks to his advantage. He had melted for Clary, though. Clary could do that to boys, she always had been able to, and Celia would be lying if she hadn't felt a little jealous about that over the years. Celia could get boys to bend to her will, but Clary could make them love her.

"So," he asked, smirking at her. "You offered me something to drink?"

She slinked over to the refrigerator and ripped it open, looking at him over her shoulder and past a wave of hair. She distantly wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

"What do you want?" She asked. "I have a lot to offer."

He laughed. "I don't care."

"Don't you?" she asked, bending down to see what there was. "I could make some coffee, tea, hot cocoa, but besides that we have soda, milk, water," she glanced up at him and wiggled her eyebrows, "Wine."

He shrugged. "Whatever it is you decide to have."

She made a face as she considered that and reached in and pulled out the wine. She studied it as she looked over the label. "Eh. Doesn't look to crappy. I mean, out cousins have sent us better, but this will do."

He grinned at her as she set it on the counter beside him and reached up to grab some glasses.

"I have never heard of this." He said.

"Family vineyard," she said, grabbing the bottle back and pouring a little. "Our cousins send us a bottle every month or so because they visited a few years back and said that what we get here is terrible."

"Nice," he said.

She just rolled her eyes and raised her drink to her lips and took a sip. "Hey, I'm not complaining, and neither are my parents, and Ky will deny it, but he doesn't mind too badly either, especially with the nights he's been having lately.

Jace looked at her questionably "What do you mean?"

Her gaze flickered away. She had never liked talking about her family; they were just so screwed up. It had been her motto or a very long time that if anyone ever asked, she only said 'everybody's fine'. He was staring at her though, waiting for her to finish the thought. Mentally, she cringed. She really had stepped in this one, no backing out now.

"Ky's boyfriend broke up with him a while back. That's most of the reason we moved back. My parents don't handle scandal very well."

Jace looked surprised. "Ky's gay?"

Celia nodded. "Oh yeah, and the sad thing is, my parents just don't get it. It's like if now that he doesn't have a boyfriend; they expect him to be straight and get a girlfriend and start a 'real life'. Like if gay was just a phase. It's painful to watch, and I can't imagine what it must be like for him."

"I'm sorry," Jace said. "You sound pretty annoyed about it."

Celia snorted. Screw being unladylike, she was giving up all her secrets to this boy anyways. "Ky pretty much raised me. My parents aren't exactly what you call 'actively-present' in our lives. Ky and I…we bonded. We've always been there for each other."

Jace paused, taking this in, before taking another sip. "If it help any, I get what you mean—what with parents who don't really get the whole homosexual thing. Alec—"

"Is gay," Celia finished. "I know. He's really been helping my brother pull through things lately. He's a good guy; hard not to like."

Jace looked at her funny. "Most people don't get that impression when they first meet him."

Celia dropped her shoulders delicately. "Well then I guess I'm not most people then, am I?"

Jace chuckled. "No, you're certainly not that."

She looked at him, letting her eyes bore into him. She could read him like a book, no matter what shields he erected. She had been around and with enough boys over the years to be able to understand them like if it was some native language. "Then what am I?" she asked. "What do you see," she gestured down at herself. She had a party to go to tonight and dressed for it. A translucent shirt that she could see her black bra through. Skinny jeans that hugged all the right places. Hair done up perfectly and make-up done to highlight her best features. She knew how she looked, she was just curious to hear what he had to say about it. "When you look at me?" Instinctively, she leaned in closer to him, forced him to pay attention.

"I see a beautiful girl who isn't afraid of anything or anybody but her own life, so she throws everything away to forget."

Celia swallowed. He had hit her spot on. She had underestimated his prowess at this game. Time to throw in distraction. Before he could react, she reached up and kissed him, hard, flicking open his lips with her tongue. It was a kiss that felt like it lasted forever. He pulled away first.

"Celia," he said hoarsely, panting a little.

She closed her eyes and sighed, untwining her arms from his neck. She was ashamed of what she had done. He was still Clary's boyfriend, despite everything. "I know." She muttered. "I'm sorry."

Her phone buzzed on the table and she stared at it in puzzlement before picking it up. "Clary," she said stupidly, her face draining of color. Jace straightened up by the counter. She listened as Clary took a deep breath and told her the unimaginable.

Suddenly, Celia was furious with the other girl. She had always liked Clary, respected her, even, but she had been acting very poorly lately. She snapped the phone shut when Clary finished and looked down at the table.

"Celia?" Jace asked.

"You know Will loves Clary, right?" she asked, turning to face him. "Rachel or no Rachel, he does and always will. And Clary? She adores him. Same matter, really. You want to know what I think about all of this though? This mess between them? _I think it's beyond her to stop asking too much of him and beyond him to say no when she does. _Think on that Jace, and go comfort you're girlfriend. She's upset, even if she's not crying.

Jace stared at her a few heartbeats, then picked his jacket up off a chair and walked out the door. Celia closed her eyes in misery. She didn't want to think anymore.


	98. Chapter 96

Ky whistled as he jogged up the steps. He felt good, freer than he had in a long time. His history with Nick had been weighing him down for a long time, and now that he had cast it off, the world couldn't be brighter. The snow-riddled streets hid possibility behind the sparkling sugar-coating. The air was sweet and clear. He was elated. He felt like he could fly. He pushed open the door.

"Hello? Celia?" He called. When he got no response, he shook his head and slid into the kitchen. His mom had some pizzelle stacked on the table and he picked up a few, munching on them as he glanced over Celia's scribbled note:

_Went to a party with Jamie. Be back later._

Below she had scribbled the address and an appropriate time he could call her at if he hadn't heard from her by then. He shrugged and grabbed two more cookies before heading upstairs. He was thinking he would read some Shakes, look over the audition material for the most recent play his company was doing, then call Alec later to see if he wanted to do something. Just the thought of the dark haired boy made Ky smile a little wider and his heart flutter in his chest.

He stopped dead when he saw his door though, his heart skipping a few beats as well. A knife was stuck in the old wood, a note pinned underneath it.

"_I think I love you" _had been written in a beautiful, careful and messy scrawl across the sheet. Alec's handwriting. For a moment, Ky forgot to breathe, but the he laughed, letting the rich sound fill the empty house. He dropped the note and ran down the stairs. He was out the door before it even hit the ground.

[][][]

Celia was making out with Jamie. They had found a comparatively quiet corner of the loft the party was in. Neither of them knew the host, but had been invited randomly at Americe's birthday party when some sprite had run into them. They had been making out pretty heavily then, too.

She had to say, of all the boys she had ever kissed, and she had kissed a lot of boys, Jamie was probably one of the better examples. Not as good as Jace, perhaps, but still pretty good. She hated herself for even letting herself rejoice in what had happened in her kitchen earlier though, and she pull Jamie down harder, barely giving either of them a chance to come up for air. She didn't want to think right now.

He pulled away, chest rising and falling as he struggled to get enough air to fill his lungs. His eyes were black, his pupils were so dilated. He kissed her cheeks, her ears, the corners of her eyes and lips.

"What do you say we take this somewhere else?" he asked, voice seductively soft.

She kissed him again, letting it linger. "Provided you can find the privacy and some space, I'm yours."

He grinned against her mouth and pecked her lips again. He slid his hand into hers. It was warm, but not even a little bit sweaty. Celia hated it when boys got sweaty. She thought it was more than a little bit gross and not the least bit attractive.

"Let's go then," he said.

He led her through the party, weaving around other couples who were happily getting drunk, on making out, or dancing like if they were never going to see each other again. To be fair, most of the people here probably _wouldn't _ever see each other again. Celia smirked when she saw some boys drawing on the face and arms of a girl who had passed her right. Jamie chuckled.

"Serves her right," Celia said. "For taking more than she can handle. If you can't hold your liquor, then you should be more careful."

Jamie smiled and pulled her back to him so he could kiss her some more.

"You're really pretty, you know that right?"

She giggled. "You're drunk."

Jamie shook his head. "No, and if I am, then I'm only as drunk as you are."

She kissed him again, pushing her hands through his hair. "Well then, I guess we're both a little out of it then."

He chuckled. "Just the way I like it." He kissed her, nipping at her lip. She pulled away.

"Come on, let's go."

She led him down a hallway and pushed open a random doorway. A shriek greeted her and she and Jamie both raised their eyes at the sight.

"Wow," Jamie said.

Celia closed her eyes in disgust. "I am so, so sorry."

Jamie pulled the door closed. "Well." he said. "That was awkward."

She laughed, leaning up to kiss him. "Oh yeah."

He kissed her back, pulling her closer to him. "So what are we going to do?" he murmured.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"Well," he said. "There's your place."

"Can't," she said. "My parents are probably home."

"And the Institute."

She squirmed, thinking of everyone she knew there that she did not want to see right now.

"Not there either,"

He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "Then I'm out of ideas."

She snuggled into him. "What about dinner then? I'm hungry."

He tucked his chin over her head. "OK. Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care. Just take me somewhere that isn't here."

He kissed her again. "Alright. Come on."

Somehow they managed to find the door and walk out. Girls were weeping on the stairs outside, nursing sore feet and broken hearts. A couple was fighting on the landing. Celia leaned her head on Jamie's shoulder and let him lead her. These people weren't her problem.

The cold blast of air on the street outside was a shocker and she shivered. Jamie wrapped his arms around her a little tighter.

"Jamie?" she asked.

"Mmmm." He nuzzled the back of her neck.

"Do you still love Rachel?"

He stopped and huffed out a heavy breath. "Oh, Celia."

"Just wondering," she muttered.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I do. What about you? Still don't care?"

"Still don't care," she said.

He kissed the top of her head. "Do you think you ever will?"

She turned around and looked at him. "I won't because I can't. Caring, in the long run, will just cause more heartbreak than necessary."

"Why do you talk like that?" He wondered.

"Why don't you tell Rachel the truth?" she countered.

He kissed her again. "I suppose you have a point there. I don't pry on your life, you don't pry on mine."

She closed her eyes. "Just buy me some dinner."


	99. Chapter 97

Rachel bumped her shoulder against Will's and laughed. Being with him here, in New York, his home town, was amazing. She knew that something was bugging him, and it probably had to do with Clary. Just thinking of the expression on her face when she had seen Rachel kissing Will earlier in the training room still made Rachel want to bend her head in shame. She was reluctant want to press Will about it though. She still remembered the broken boy who she had met so long ago, who shared his secrets slowly, if ever at all. Will fell silent, chewing his cheek as he stared moodily at the street and the conversation lagged for a second. The smile dancing on Rachel's lips died. She reached out and gently laid her hand on his cheek, turning him to face her. He swallowed, holding back tears, she knew, and she brushed her lips against his.

"Hey," she asked. "What's up? You seem kinda distant."

He pecked her lips before pulling back with a sigh. He ran a hand through his hair, making it momentarily stand up on end. He always looked so adorable when he did that. "I don't know," he said, miserably. "It just—it just feels like everything's falling around me, I guess and I don't know what to do."

She wrapped her arm through his and led him on through the night. "And why do you think that?"

He shrugged, watching their feet as they moved on through the slushy snow on the sidewalk. "I'm losing Clarissa," he admitted.

Rachel sighed. "And that's what you're most afraid of," she said quietly.

He nodded. He didn't need to explain further; Rachel had often badgered about his mysterious "lady". He had finally broken down years ago and told her everything. She had held his hand when he cried about it, or got to feeling bad every once in a while. She didn't want to be too smug about it, but she largely attributed his moving on past Clary to herself. She had been around to show him there was more to life than remembering the past. That's how they had fallen in love with each other in the first place. They understood each other. She squeezed his hand.

"So what are you doing to fix that?" she asked.

He shrugged again. "She doesn't want to fix things. She wants to move on with her life."

Rachel smiled wanly. "Do you think she might have a point?"

Will glanced at her with wild blue eyes. "Rache!" he said.

Rachel stared evenly back at him. "Will, why do you still hold onto Clary even though you know she's moved on, hmmm?"

Will open and closed his mouth for several moments as he tried to think of what to say. "Because she's Clary," he said at last. "And I love her."

"Do you love me?" Rachel asked.

Will scoffed. "Yes, of course."

"More than her?"

"Definitely." He replied.

She put her hands on his shoulders. "Then why does she matter?"

He looked away, impatient and uncomfortable. "Because she's my best friend."

"That you love," Rachel countered. "Listen, I heard that the two of you were going to get together after the Seelie Queen made you kiss."

He cringed. "Who told you that?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Celia, who else? Why, by the way, does everyone divulge their secrets to Celia? I mean, I get it that she's your friend and all, but seriously. The girl lost her virginity when she was fourteen to a stranger! She sleeps with someone new practically every night, and can't hold down a steady relationship. Why do you trust her?"

Will shrugged, chuckling a little. "Why do we hang out with Beast? He insults and curses us in the same breath that he compliments us. Celia's just the kind of person you know you can unload your secrets and troubles on. Sure, she's not the most….traditional of examples, but she's always there for you. She's a true friend, even if she is a bit of a…" He paused, looking for the right word.

"A slut?" Rachel offered.

Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I suppose, although I must admit, even I have hard time thinking of her like that. She's too much of an intellectual."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow at him, but didn't inquire further. "I was saying though, you and Clary almost got together, but didn't because…" she drew the last word out, waiting for him to compete the sentence.

"Because I didn't want her to be uncertain of being with me, knowing that she loved someone else just that deeply."

"So what should I do, Will?" Rachel asked.

Will furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know that you still love Clary."

"Not as much as you!" he argued.

Rachel shook her head. "Will, I don't think that's true. I think that so long as she's around, you can't help but want to be with her. You two are like magnets." She held her hands apart then smacked them together. "Whoom. You can't help but want to be with each other every minute of every day."

Will looked down at her woefully. "The same could be said about how I feel about you."

Rachel caught his chin and held it in her hand. "I think that's what's in the past, not you and Clary."

He wrapped her up in his arms. "I love being with you Rache. I'm happy with you."

Rachel smiled, glad to be in his arms again, but she couldn't ignore the matter at hand. "Will, we need to address this. I'm happy to be here with you too…for now." She blinked up at him. "Don't ignore how you feel, Will. It's never helped you before and it won't help you now. It's not good to be conflicted inside about things like these; you of all people should now that." She kissed his cheek softly and he closed his eyes, content. "I love you," she whispered.

He bent down to kiss her forehead. "I love you too, Rache. I love you too."

Author's note:

OK. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update and I'm sorry I didn't give you fair warning. I know I usually have a new chapter (or five) up at least every two nights, but school started up this week, and my course load is HUGE. So, there may be a little stall here and there. I'll do my best to write and update when I can, but I make no promises that it will be as often as you guys are used to.  
Please, please, bear with me for now. I'm doing my best, and I want to see this story all the way through. There's still a lot that's going to happen. Hell, I haven't even introduced Sebastian yet, let alone the whole Simon situation I've been cooking up.  
I'm sorry, again, that this took so long. All of you, please enjoy what's left of the summer, and if you have school to go to, enjoy that as well.

Yours,  
Nerd Girl Nithagria


	100. Chapter 98

Simon trudged home through the snow. To be honest, he missed be able to feel the sharp chill of winter nights. It had always been one of his most favorite parts of the season. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying, for the moment, to soft brush of the midnight breeze against his cheek. At least he could still feel that. He opened his eyes and stared up at the blank, dark blue canvas of the night sky in the city. The sky never really got black here, and there were never any stars. There was too much light. He remembered being in Idris, and all the stars that he had seen there. They had glimmered in the sky like a handful of glitter thrown up into the air and waiting to drift back to the ground.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and with a sigh he pulled it out and answered.

"Hello?"

"Simon?" Clary's voice was quiet. Lonely. He hadn't heard her sound like that in a long time. This was going to be an interesting conversation. He glanced around; looking for a place he could sit down, and spotted some steps leading up to a dark house. He brushed the thin dusting of snow off of them with his bare hand and sat down, leaning against the intricately crafted wrought-iron railing.

"What's wrong, Clary?" He asked, doing his best to be gentle. She sounded like if she would break very easily right now. Not like if she was on the verge of tears, more like if she was on the verge of despondency.

"I don't know." She said. "How can this be, Simon, that I'm so unhappy even though I have everything? What's wrong with me?"

Simon closed his eyes. He was tired tonight. "Nothing's wrong with you, Clary." He murmured.

She was silent for a long time, long enough for Simon to wonder if she had fallen asleep or hung up. "Clary? Still there?" he asked.

"I'm here." She said. "Simon…I broke things off with Will."

Simon's eyes snapped open and he sat up straighter. "What do you mean, you 'broke things off with Will'? I mean, I know you two had been considering being together and all that over the last few weeks, but were you carrying out an affair or something?"

She chuckled, but the tone of her voice was still very sad. "No, it's not that. I told him I wanted to put an end to the Departed, Simon. I told him I thought it would be best if we both moved on with our lives. If we stopped being friends." She said.

"Oh, Clary." Simon replied. "Are you alright?"

"Surprisingly? Yes. I think I am."

"Then what's the problem?" Simon asked.

"I guess I feel a little lost," she said. "I mean, for so long, I've had Will, and now…"

"Poof, he's gone?"

"I guess so. Simon, I lost my rock." He could hear something different in her voice; a mix between a smile as she laughed in shock at how ridiculous the situation and despair that it was actually happening.

"Clary," he said. "Be your own rock."

"I don't know how, Simon. I've always had you and Will around to hold my hand when times got rough."

"I'm not going to be here forever," he said.

"Simon," she objected. "You're a vampire now. You are literally going to live forever."

"Well that's a grim thought." He said. He leaned his head on the railing again. He was getting sleepy.

"Sorry," she said, "but you know it's true."

"Does that mean I'm always going to have to be running around, cleaning up after you?"

Clary scoffed on the other end of the line. He could picture her sitting at her desk, spinning in her chair and playing with a pencil while she drew, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance at him.

"I'm lucky to have you in my life, Simon." She said softly.

"Oh, you know me. I'm the Duckie."

She laughed for the first time that night and Simon's spirit lifted at his ability to lighten her mood. "You're too good for me, Simon. How's Isabelle though? Are you two alright?"

He shrugged before he remembered that she couldn't see her. "Well enough, I suppose. She's just been busy lately and I've been busy."

"Do you ever feel like we've all been stuck in a pressure cooker, Simon? Like if slowly the force of everything is getting tighter and tighter and we're all waiting in tense anticipation for the day when everything's snaps and falls apart?" Clary asked suddenly.

Simon blanched. "What?" He asked.

She scoffed in annoyance. "I didn't phrase that very well. Simon, something's coming. I can feel it in my bones, and when it comes, it's not going to be good. I think sometimes that everyone else can feel it too, but then they turn away or smile and I think that it's just me. I feel like I'm getting stretched so thin I can barely breathe sometimes, you know? Being with Jace doesn't help; I just feel more wound up, and when I'm with everyone else, I keep catching myself glancing over my shoulder, waiting for the happy mood to turn sour. Simon," Clary half-gasped, half-sobbed, "what's wrong with me? Why do I feel like this?"

Simon swallowed. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. He didn't want to tell her, but he had been having the sneaking suspicion lately that he was being followed. He's duck into alleys and take random routes, feeling silly, because, whenever he looked back, there was nothing there. "Clary," he said, his mouth was dry and he swallowed. "It's nothing. With everything that's been happening with you and Will lately, you're just getting stressed out. Get some sleep. Sleep makes everything better."

"Alright," Clary said, but she sounded resigned, and Simon had a sinking sensation in his stomach somehow, like if she had expected better and he had failed her.

"Clary—" He started.

"No, no, it's fine. It's just—it's not Will, OK? Because it's the same as before, remember? When I was a kid and I couldn't sleep well? Being with Will—it calms me down."

"Clary." Simon said again.

"Good night, Simon." She said, hanging up.

He looked at the phone in his hands. "Well, good night to you too I guess," He said. Feeling eyes on him, he glanced up, but there was no one there. He shook his head. All of Clary's paranoid talk had gotten him nervous. It was nothing. Even so, he wasted no time getting home.

Author's Note:

Hey Guys...

*scratched neck awkwardly and cringes*

So...been a while since I updated. I'm doing my best, but, as I said before, schoolwork is heavy this year. I've been trying to put in little bits and pieces where I can, but it's still hard to do. So, I'm sorry to say that for now, chapters are probably going to be few and far between. Please be patient with me in the meantime.

I've got a little bit of free-time on Thursdays, so that when I'll most likely be updating, but bear in mind that my Creative Writing teacher also has me working hard on my original work, _The Nithagrian_, so I'm trying to juggle that as well.

Hopefully, I'll be able to figure how to keep up!

Until next time,

Yours,  
Nerd Girl Nithagria.


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